Metal doesn't matter But your spark does
by NinjaOfTheDream
Summary: Silverbolt has been on the wrong side of the war for as long as she can recall. So when a chance for freedom comes, she takes it. Being good is better than she ever imagined. There are a few hiccups though. She finds her sparkmate, her one true love, and he doesn't want her. To top it off, there's a crazy mech, pit-bent on destroying the Autobots. AU Ironhide and Jazz not dead.
1. Crashing Burning Falling

There was fire everywhere. Usually, fire isn't really an issue, but right now I'm trapped in the engine room of a ship that has just exploded outside the atmosphere of a highly oxygenated planet, and there is so much slagging flame, that my optics cant focus. And did I mention I'm trapped in said ship, and its quickly hurtling planetside? Yeah, there's that too.

So all I know is I'm stuck, I cant see, the rest of the crew are somewhere else on the ship, we are hurtling toward the surface of an alien planet, and I'm probably going to die. Typically, Knowledge is a good thing. Of course, what I don't know is worse. It's always worse.

For example, I don't know where the exit is. Or how long I have to get to safety before the ship hits the ground. And if I cant reach safety, will I survive the impact?

But worst of all; where is my team? They had been at the helm of the ship, but I had been in the aft working on repairing the engine which had managed to offline while we were in stasis. Essentially we had been drifting. That was when we were hit by something, and the ship exploded.

So that was where I was now, in the aft of a ship that was in the middle of crashing through the atmosphere of a planet that was completely alien to me.

As the heat from the flames abated a little, I was able to focus my optics and gain my bearings. I located the engine room exit, and made my way toward it. I found the entry blocked by charred pieces of twisted metal and began to work at it using my laser. As I chopped my way through the broken remains of the ship, I could hear the sound of the wind howling through the corridor outside.

I finally push my way through the last of the debris, and the sight I see nearly freezes my spark.

The entire front of the ship, is gone. Torn away by the force of entry into the atmosphere. It is nowhere in sight, and I have to work hard not to let my fear overload my processors. _The others._ I think fearfully. I could only hope they have gotten to the escape shuttles in time. And that is where I needed to head now. The rate at which we are descending, suggested that I had only kliks before impact.

I turn in the direction of the escape shuttles, and thank Primus that the adjacent corridor is still intact. I begin to run. Time is not on my side, and I would like to live another day. I sprint down the hallway as fast as my pedes can carry me and slide clumsily into the shuttle, hitting the door seal as I go.

I quickly initiate launch sequence, and I am jettisoned away from the ship nanokliks before it hits the earth. The force of the launch throws me against the pilots berth, and for a moment I become disoriented. Regaining my senses, I settle into the berth, and focus my attention on the viewing screen.

Here's the thing about ships, and shuttles, and really any type of flying vehicle; they're supposed to fly. Unfortunately for me, my flying shuttle, was most certainly _not_ flying. I barely had time to register the quickly advancing ground, before I was hitting it.

The shuttle groans and shakes as it tumbles across the ground, and I begin to hear the tearing of metal. All the while, I'm being thrown around the cockpit like a rat in the paws of a cybercat. I'm suddenly regretting not bolting myself into the berth like my creators used to tell me when I was little.

I slam into what used to be the ceiling, and feel something pierce my armour. The following drop in my energy levels is immediate, and I'm sure that I've severed an energon line. I hear some more metal tearing, and catch a glimpse of light, before my optics briefly black out in pain. My system diagnosis tells me I've just fractured one of my backstruts.

At last the shuttle come to a halt. It's landed right side up, and I manage to think; _at least there's that._ But my hysterical and pain induced moment of humor is cut short, when the supply locker comes unbolted from the wall, and lands on my right pede, effectively crushing the limb.

"Slag it." I groan. I'm trapped, the shuttle is fried. I doubt I could even get the doors to open.

I glance around and spy the medkit, luckily within reach. I grab it, and patch myself up as best I can. But unless I can get out of here soon, I may as well kiss my own aft goodbye. _Its really too bad First-Aid isn't here to patch me up._ I think.

It takes me a moment to realise that not once, have I tried to contact my team. All it's gonna take is a quick comm-message, and they can come find me and fix me up. I open a comlink channel to the others. "Zeta team, do you copy?" I pause, and get only static. My spark sinks. "Zeta team, this is Silverbolt, I am injured and in need of extraction, quite literally. Femme down, repeat, femme down. Does anybot copy?"

There is only silence on the other end. _Great._ I think. _Now my comlink's busted along with the rest of me._

I search my memory banks desperately for some way to escape this impossible situation, and finally, I am forced to admit to myself that I'm just going to have to wait for rescue. I pray to Primus that help comes soon, because I'm only going to last a few joors if I'm lucky.

Turns out, I am lucky. I last a few joors, and then a few more. But my luck is running out, and unless help miraculously appears in the next few kliks, I'm as good as scrap. I blink a few times, trying desperately to keep my optics online. That's when I hear the voices.

They are getting closer, and I can begin to make out what they are saying.

"...can't believe I got stuck on salvage detail with you and Ratchet. Of all the lousy gigs. What was Ironhide thinking? Skidds just reported that they found survivors at the other site. _Six_ confirmed Autobots! They'll have an ID soon. And I'm stuck here. I mean, what if my brother is at the other crash site?"

I hear what sounds like the 'radio' that I discovered as I researched the natives of this planet. A short song clip plays as if in response to the voice. "_...everything... is gonna be all right_!" I am extremely confused.

"You're right 'Bee." The voice replied. It was distinctly mech, and now coming from right outside my shuttle. "All right, lets get this open. This is the last bit of wreckage, and then we can get back to base."

I hear the buzz of a laser, and a grunt as someone pries the shuttle doors open. Light pours in, and I am blinded for a moment. As my optics refocus, I can make out the shape of the mech in the doorway.

He does a quick once over of the shuttles interior, but I'm propped up in the corner, and he doesn't see me. He speaks again. "Nothin' in here 'Bee, just an empty escape shuttle. Lets go."

I am low on energon, but I manage to croak out a few words. "Help." I say. "In here."

The mech, who had begun to move away, whips around, and crawls into the shuttle. "Scrap." He says as he sees me. He glances over his shoulder at a black and yellow mech who's just outside the doorway. "We've got another survivor, 'Bee! Get Ratchet now!"

The other mech nods, and dashes off. The first one moves forward, and kneels by my side. He's sleek, and silver armoured, and he looks extremely familiar.

"Slag." He says quietly. "You're pretty messed up."

I cough out a laugh at his obvious statement, and his faceplates turn up in a grim smile.

"Can you tell me your name?" He asks.

I open my mouth to try speaking, but he seems to realize that maybe this is a bad Idea. Because he tries to stop me. I can't help it though. Something about this mech is just bugging me.

"Sunstreaker." I groan.

The silver mech freezes. "What?"

"Sunstreaker." I pant out. "What...happened to your...armour? It's all... silver. And weird."

The mech laughs a little. "My name isn't Sunstreaker." He says sadly. "It's Sideswipe. Sunstreaker is my twin." He pauses. "Do you know Sunny?" He asks. "Was he on this ship with you?" He grabs my shoulders gently, and stares into my optics with a frightening intensity.

"Know him," I croak out. "we make... all sorts of trouble...together. He's... my best friend."

Sideswipes faceplates turn upward. A genuine smile this time. I can hear his spark begin to hum faintly in happiness. His positive energy is so intense, it momentarily relieves me of pain, and I find myself smiling back at him.

"Sideswipe!" The moment is ended by another more gravelly voice intruding upon my audio receptors. "Move, I need to start working."

Sideswipe moves aside, and another mech kneels down before me. He's a sort of neon yellow color, with red accents. "Big frame for a femme." He mutters to himself, and I can't quite muster the energy to be offended by his comment. "What's her name?" He asks Sideswipe, as he begins to weld a wound in my chassis.

"Don't know." Sideswipe shrugs. He bounces nervously on his pedes. "You think she's gonna make it 'hatchet?"

The medic barely glances at the mech. "Too early to tell. And besides, what's it to you?"

"She's a friend of Sunnys'. Says he was on this ship when it crashed. If she's Sunnys' friend, then she's important to me too."

Ratchet rolls his optics, and sighs. But he continues with his expert ministrations. He works quickly and silently. Only speaking when he requires the assistance of Sideswipe. Kliks pass, or possibly joors. I can no longer tell the difference. My spark pulse has slowed to a lethargic throb, and I am vaguely aware of the yellow and black mech from before hovering outside the shuttle.

"Sideswipe," Ratchet interrupts my thoughts. "Help me move her, she's injured on her back."

"Roger that, doc." As they begin to roll me, Ratchet holds out a servo.

"Wait." He says. "Look." He points to my shoulder, where the faint shape of my Decepticon insignia had been before I had asked Alpha Trion to grind it off.

"Scrap." I hear Sideswipe swear.

They roll me back on my aft, and the medic looks directly into my optics.

"Tell me the truth femme," He says. "because I'm only going to ask once... Are you a Decepticon?"

I focus my optics on him as best I can, and muster the last of my energy.

"No." I say.

He stares at me for a good long while, and finally speaks;

"Alright." That's all he says, and then he is back to working on my wounds.

As time progresses, I am finding it harder and harder to stay online, and finally Ratchets gravelly voice hit my audio receptors. He sounds far away.

"It's all right femme. Rest. The only thing you need now is a good long recharge..."

I silently thank him, and let my processors go offline.

* * *

When I reboot, I am no longer in the dark ruined interior of my shuttle, but lying on a berth in a spacious, well-lit hangar. As I try to sit up, I feel something stop me. I look down to see several restraints around my chassis, pedes and servos.

"Sorry about the restraints, femme." I turn to train my optics on the form of Ratchet, who is calmly scanning a datapad. He looks up at me. "Optimus wants to be sure that you're really on our side. He's conferring with the other members of your crew right now. Then he'll be in to hear your side of things."

I blink a few times. "Optimus?" I ask. "_The _ Optimus Prime? We found him then? Alpha Trion was right!"

Ratchet gives me an odd look. "Well as far as I know, there's only one mech in existence named Optimus," He says with a smirk. "so yes, _the _Optimus Prime."

I turn my faceplates up in a smile, something Alpha Trion used to tell me I should do more.

Ratchet moves toward me, and begins sorting equipment on a medical table nearby. Some of the tools have old energon on them. My guess is it's my energon.

Ratchet catches me looking, and pushes the table aside. "You've been in medical stasis for approximately an orn. That's about fourteen days earth time." He says. "You were quite difficult to repair, your frame is improperly built, and I had to improvise a bit."

"Ah." I say. "There's a reason for that."

Ratchet opens his mouth to ask but before he can, I change the subject.

"How's Sunny?" I blurt. "He and Sideswipe are finally reunited. I bet they've been doing a scrap ton of catching up, yeah?"

Ratchet nods. "Sunstreaker is well. He's actually been in here quite a bit despite the fact he hasn't seen Sideswipe for vorns. But his twin seems to have adopted an attachment to you as well. Both of them visit you almost daily. You've got a loyal friend in Sunstreaker."

"He's the closest thing I've got to a family." I say simply. "He's my brother."

Ratchet smiles for the first time. "Well, it looks like you've got two brothers now. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are a package deal."

I smile, and think to myself that I like Ratchet very much.

"So, femme." He says as he picks up another datapad and begins to read. "Do you have a name? Or am I just going to call you femme all the time?"

I snort in mock annoyance. "My name is Silverbolt."

He frowns and sets the datapad down slowly. He turns to look at me. "What, were your creators names?"

I'm a little unprepared for this question. I haven't thought about my creators in vorns. But I hold his gaze, put on my brave face, and answer his question. "Their names were Racerunner and Skydive." I manage to say, before I have to look away. Somehow, after all these cycles, it's still hard to say their names.

"Ah." Ratchet says, and looks away too. "And were they both killed during the war?"

"Yeah." I say. "Did you know them?" I ask.

"Yes." He says. "I knew them."

I am about to ask more, but our conversation ends abruptly as the hangar doors slide open and several bots walk in.

I recognize Prowl and Red-Alert immediately. And I have to say they are looking snazzy in their fancy new armour. Prowls black and white police-car paintjob looks fabulous, and the usually grumpy and tense Red-Alert seems pleased about something for once.

They are followed by a small silver mech, who is shorter even than Sunstreaker. And a big black mech who is nearly twice my height. He cuts an imposing figure, with two large cannons strapped to his forearms.

Next come Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and It's easy to see how I could have mistaken Sideswipe for his twin. Especially now that Sunny has gotten his armor reformatted in the fashion that all the other earth Autobtots seem to have. The twins are completely identical, except for their paint jobs. Gold-yellow for Sunny, and silver for Sideswipe.

As they approach my berth, Sunstreaker grins at me, and Sideswipe mock-salutes. "Nice to see you up and at 'em Silver." Sunstreaker says cheerfully.

"Indeed." Inputs Prowl. "Ratchet, you have permission to release Silverbolt from her bonds. Even if she were a 'Con, she would be no threat."

"Jeez, thanks Prowl." I say.

Prowl nods. "You are welcome Silverbolt." He seems almost serious, but I notice the tiniest twitch of his faceplates, and I can't help but grin.

As I stand, I roll my shoulder joints, and flex my servos and pedes. Everything seems to be working perfectly.

"So, uh. When is Optimus Prime going to be here?" I ask.

The big black mech looks at me and laughs out loud. "He'll be along soon enough, femme. But first thing, you either call him Optimus, or you call him Prime. Both is a little much." He speaks in a cultured British accent that makes him seem slightly less opposing. But I know better than to laugh. He strides forward, and holds a servo out to me. "Name's Ironhide, I'm Primes' third lieutenant."

"I'm called Silverbolt." I say as I grab his servo and shake it in the appropriate fashion. Though I am confused by his use of human gestures. It suggests that they have had personal contact with the natives. I call him out on it. "You're using a human greeting. I thought we were to remain hidden from other species we encountered. Has something changed?"

The small silver mech spoke up. "Circumstances forced us to reveal ourselves ta' the humans. We now work in close proximity with a special division of their government."

"I see. So we've allied with them. How long has it been this way?" I ask.

"We've known Sam for what, thirteen earth years. Right 'Hide?"

Irnonhide nods. " 'Bout as long as we've been on planet. Though it took some time to work out the kinks." He chuckles.

I sense there is a story here, and I want to ask who Sam is. But before I can do so, the small silver mech turns to me. He wears a blue visor, similar to my amber one, though mine remains retracted when I'm not in battle. His helm is also unique, although I don't think anyone could mistake him... He's the shortest mech I have ever met. Though I can't tell whether or not he is a minibot.

He addresses me in a jovial manner. "I'm Jazz, Optimus' second lieutenant." He follows up with a smart salute.

I nod. "It's nice to meet you Jazz." I look around at all the faceplates in the room. Three faces who are familiar friends. Though Red-Alert would never admit it. And four who are not. And yet all of them are acting like its no big deal to have a former Decepticon among them. "Why are you all being so kind?" I ask. "I could be a spy. Or an assassin, sent to kill the Prime or something. The fact remains, I used to be a Decepticon. So why are we shaking servos and exchanging names?"

Jazz bounces up and down on his pedes. "Well honey, for a former Decepticon, you've sure convinced mah prowler that you've changed sides. And he has the most highly advanced logic processors a bot can find." He finishes his spiel, and it seems that's that. Everybot nods, and it's done. No more questions.

I nod. That's something I can live with. "So Jazz. Uh, _your_ Prowler? Are you and Prowl... _mates_?" I ask. I glare accusingly at Prowl, who has never mentioned this. Jazz also raises his optic ridges in Prowls direction.

Prowl rubs the back of his helm in embarrassment, and it's kinda funny to see the reaction another mech can have on the typically unemotional and logically minded first Lieutenant. "Bonded. Actually." Is all he says.

"Bonded?!" I yelp. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He looks around the group. "Well, everybot else knew. And I never spoke of it, because the... emotions that occurred as a result of being separated from him, were... difficult to process." He looks at Jazz, and suddenly I can almost see their bond. I understand now.

Prowl, who is primarily made up of logic, and reason, and fact, saves his emotion for one bot; Jazz. Jazz is his center. Jazz is his release. Prowls processors are not built to handle emotion, so Jazz takes it all.

"You guys were sparkmates, weren't you?" I ask.

Jazz and Prowl break their gazes, and Jazz looks at me. "Sure were." He says. "Though Prowler couldn't stand me at first." He laughs, and the group joins in. Even Sideswipe and Sunstreaker get the joke.

I look away. I can't help but feel like I don't belong. Alpha Trion had said it would be hard. But he had also told me that If I kept at it, and didn't give up, that there would be great joy in my future. So I'm holding out for that. Even when it feels like I don't belong.

Sunstreaker meets my gaze from across the room, and grins at me. "Hey Silverbolt!" He says, all smiles and laughter. "Tell everyone about the time you and I rearranged all the datapads in Alpha Trions office!" He's trying to include me, and I'm grateful, but not really in the mood at this point.

"Maybe later Sunny." I say quietly. I suddenly feel very tired. Then, to myself I mutter; "I hope Optimus gives me a chance."

Ironhide hears me, and claps me on the shoulder with a massive servo. "He will femme. Just Wait."

I smile up at him. "Ironhide, didn't your creators ever tell you not to trust a bot you just met?"

Ironhide laughs, and Red-Alert pipes up for the first time. "Well _they_ all may trust yeh. And tha's fine, if they wants an early trip ta' the pit. But the Prime ain't gonna be so easy ta' convince. And as for meself, I still don't trust yeh!"

"Riiiight." I say sarcastically. "I just think that you _like_ to be a grumpy old busybody, Red."

Red-Alert 'harrumphs' at me, and looks to Ratchet. "Where the slag is Prime at?"

Everybot turns to Ratchet expectantly, and he looks about in indignation. "Why do you all expect _me_ to know?" He asks.

"It's 'cause you're besties 'Hatchet!" Sideswipe quips.

Ironhide looks at the silver twin in confusion. "What is besties?"

Sunstreaker answers. "It means best friends. Ratchet and Optimus are besties! Besides, Ratchet always know what Op' is up to."

Once again, everybot looks expectantly at Ratchet. He rolls his optics, but puts a servo to the side of his helm as he activates his comlink. After a moment of silence, he answers Red-Alerts' question. "Skids and Mudflap got in a fight, and Ultra Magnus tried to break it up apparently. And they don't listen to him, so you all can guess how that went. But Optimus is on his way now. He should be here any minute."

My spark quivers in excitement. Optimus Prime is the closest thing to a Cybertronian celebrity. He's a legend, and I finally get to meet him! I hear the hangar door open, and everybot turns their helms in that direction.

My spark begins to buzz, and I feel strange. As the mech comes into view, my spark pulse begins to sing. I observe him as if from outside my frame. He is tall. Taller than most mechs, and his two toned blue and red paintjob with the flame motif is somehow suiting, even though it's something that a much younger bot might sport. My gaze travels up his frame to meet his own piercing blue optics, and suddenly reality snaps back around me.

I don't know how long we have been standing, staring at each other. But Ratchet is asking Optimus what is wrong, and Sunstreaker is asking me something similar. I'm vaguely aware that my sparkpulse has become erratic enough, that my cooling systems have to kick in. I can hear the Primes own cooling systems from the distance between us.

Our gazes are locked, and my spark feels ready to go flying out of my chassis and toward the mech before me. I wonder if he has the same sensation. I take an involuntary step forward, and suddenly Optimus goes rigid. The energy that had buzzed between us is suddenly gone, as if he has cut it off.

His body language unfortunately puts everyone on high alert, as suddenly, Ironhides cannons are primed and trained on me.

And then Sunstreaker is standing in front of me, and Sideswipe is yelling at him, while he yells at Ironhide. And Jazz is trying to control the situation as it falls apart, because Optimus doesn't even seem to have control of himself. And for that matter, neither do I.

And all the while, Red-Alert is Yelling about the "no good 'Cons". And Ratchet is fussing over his 'bestie', who still seems unable to move.

And then Prowl. Silent, Level-headed, Logical Prowl raises his voice above then din, and takes control of the situation like the first lieutenant he is.

"Everybot SHUT-UP! Or I'll send you all to the pit!" He turns to Optimus. "Prime, get ahold of yourself. What are your orders?"

Optimus slowly relaxes, and turns to Prowl. Then he faces each of his soldiers in turn. Though he distinctly avoids looking at me. Finally, he speaks. His voice is like Praxian brew, it's deep, dark, and it rolls through my audios like thunder. And slag it if that voice doesn't almost have me in a trance again.

"Ironhide, stand down. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, report to Bumblebee for training. Red-Alert, please escort them out." The twins salute smartly, and trot out of the hangar along with the paranoid security officer.

Optimus turns to Ratchet. "Give her the all clear, and then Prowl and Ironhide can take her by to see Wheeljack for equipment and an alt-mode. Jazz, find a hangar for the femme, and give her a tour of the base. Then get her settled in for the night. The four of you are to report to me at dusk."

He turns, and exits the hangar. Without speaking to me once. Without even bothering to question me, or hear my story. We have some sort of weird connection, and suddenly he acts like a complete aft, throws a fit, and storms out. But he still gives me the run of the place.

Everyone is thinking the same thing as I am, though Ironhide is the one who dares ask; "What just happened?" He says almost timidly.

Jazz looks to Ironhide, and then to me. "Well it's kinda obvious. Ain't it?" He asks. Prowl nods in agreement.

When nobot answers, he sighs. "Optimus just behaved the same way mah Prowler did when we first met, and the same way Ratchet did, when he met Wheeljack." He looked around again. I still didn't get it.

"Primus bless, you fools really don't get it, do ya?" He says in exasperation.

Ironhide recoils as if he's been hit. "You mean-?"

It suddenly dawns on Ratchet too. "Holy pit." He swears. "They're sparkmates."

Sparkmates.

The word echoes in my head. Taunting me. _Sparkmates. Sparkmates. Sparkmates._ Is this what Alpha Trion meant when he said there would be great joy in my future? Because I have just been rejected by the most important mech in Autobot history.

It's too much for my processors to handle. My cooling system goes into overdrive.

"Sweet Primus." I say. Then my processors overload, and I crash.

**The song clip that Bumblebee plays at Sideswipe is from Bob Marleys; Every Little Thing Gonna Be All Right.**


	2. Past Pain and Present

**So, I though the first chapter went really well. I'm listening to skrillex as I type this, because somehow I feel like the autobots would all kinda be into skrillex and dubstep. To them it has the same aesthetic as cybertronian music. Go inspiration! **

**I also just found out that there was an original G1 autobot named Silverbolt. He was the leader of the aerialbots. And I thought I was being all creative with her name. :( Regardless, we are going to pretend like that other guy never existed.**

**Also, just to avoid any confusion, my story IS based on the films. Transformers, RotF, DotM. Etc. Now, Age of Extinction just came out in theaters today. But I've already heard that all the good characters die or something, so I'm NOT featuring the events of that movie. The storyline of my fanfic is taking place about a year or so after the events of Dark of the Moon, and progressing in whatever direction I take it.**

**I am adding a lot of characters that were not necesarily in the movies. But they are ALL existing autobots, from different continuities. With the exception of Silverbolt, and two other OC's that will appear in later chapters. (Don't ask me their names, I don't wanna spoil the surprise.)**

**It is a slight AU. Jazz and Ironhide are both alive. However, Megatron and Sentinal are both dead... My story will be featuring a brand NEW bad guy (one of the OC's). Exciting, right?!**

**Anyway, please, PLEASE let me know what needs to be fixed. Was there any information left out? Anything that you didnt understand? I want to know what YOU want to know so that I can make that very clear in my wrinting. For noooooow, I just have to write chapter two. Oh, wait. Thats what this is. Enjoy. **

* * *

I was really starting to think I should have stayed on Cybertron with Alpha Trion.

He understood. He had taken one look at me, and known that there was more to me than met the eye. But it seemed that It was going to take a lot more than the word of their leader for Primes troops to trust me. None of them knew what had happened between the Prime and I in the medbay except his lieutenants, the medic Ratchet, and myself.

After Optimus had left and Ratchet had revived me from my blackout, we had all agreed to keep it a secret. It was obvious that Optimus had no intention of acknowledging the fact. So neither should we. It would be safer, and also easier that way.

I told myself that it didn't matter that Optimus ignored my existence. I had lived this long without ever knowing him. I didn't need a sparkmate. That's what I told myself. But my spark still jumped every time I saw him, though it was only ever from a distance. I had a sneaking suspicion that he had permanantly tapped into the bases security cameras just for the purpose of avoiding me.

After Ratchet had given me a final check-up, Prowl and Ironhide took me to Wheeljacks lab, with Ratchet following close behind. Wheeljacks lab was in the hangar just next door. And as we exited the medical hangar, a troop of human soldiers took up position around us, and I realized that while the bots would at least tolerate me on the word of their leader, the humans were bound to be far more cautious.

I was vaugely intrigued by the humans for about two seconds before I got bored. They were short, and squishy, and I didn't really see the merit in befriending them. So instead of bothering with them, I got a good look at the base.

My navigation systems told me we were on a small island called Diego Garcia. Originally, it had been a secret US airbase, but was now designated for official use by the Autobots. Most of the hangars had been emptied of planes, and modified to fit the uses of the Autobots, as they were the only buildings big enough to house us.

Each hangar was clearly labeled in both cybertronian and english, and across the landing strip, I see hangars labeled _barracks, offices,_ and _rec._ I smile at the last one. Good to know that the 'bots aren't all work and no play.

We entere the hangar labeled _lab_ and I can see right away why Wheeljack and Ratchet were sparkmates. Wheeljack is intelligent and brilliant, and extremely eccentric. He is also compassionate to a fault, a trait he and Ratchet share. Though Ratchet is a little more brusque. Wheeljack accepts me with only limited explanation from his mate.

He has an obsession with human technology, and enjoys creating inventions to suit the use of the humans. And while his cybertronian tech is brilliant, his human gear is a little less than safe for its testers.

He has me outfitted with new nuclear shell guns. And also reactivates my old Ion blasters, and replaces my twin blades. All that goes off without a hitch. Then he directes me to the rear of the hangar, where a few shiny cars and trucks are sitting, gathering dust.

"Go ahead and choose whichever one ye want lassie." He said in his his scottish accent. "Just pick one and giver 'er a quick scan, and then you're good tae go."

A 2011 Lamborghini Gallardo Bicolore catches my eye, it is shiny black, with bright blue pinstripes down the sides. I activate my scanner, and get the specs on the car. But when I go to transform, I am suddenly in agony. My pedes crumple underneath me, and my sensors go haywire as my processors tried to find the threat.

"Femme!" Ratchet exclaims. "Whats wrong?"

I groan, and push myself to my peds. "It's something that I've experienced since transferring into this frame." I say. "This frame wasn't built for me, and occasionally I used to have episodes like this one. It always occurred when I tried to do something that the frame wasn't built to do. For example, I have never been able to use an interface cable, or a cortical psychic patch. I have the necesary ports, but It causes major pain to even plug the cord into the jack." I shake out my limbs, trying to shake off the memories of that particular occasion.

"Prowl knows some of this." The first lieutenant nods as I gesture to him. "I was in charge of all repairs on our ship, but because I was unable to link with the ship, I either had to have someone else do it for me, or manually search for the damage. Quite a pain in the aft, I can tell you." I finished my explanation with a wan smile. "It seems, in this case, my frame is unable to transform. I never knew, because I never had to transform back on Cybertron.

"But, how?" Ratchet asks me. "And how did I miss that? I mean, I noticed that your frame was poorly built. But, well most of the damage was superficial, I never thought to look more than armour deep. Malfunctions like what you are describing suggest that even your protoform is badly constructed!" He exclaims.

I nod. "I told you there's a reason behind that." I say. "It also has to do with why I was fighting for the 'cons, and why I'm here now."

"Well then lass." Wheeljack says. "You'd better explain."

I shuffle my peds. Telling my story is always uncomfortable, and painful. "Is there any way we can get everybot together?" I ask. "I really only wanna tell this once."

Two earth-cycles later, after I've settled into the base, and everyone has gotten comfortable with the idea of me being here. Prowl has rounded everyone up in the rec hangar. I stand with him at one end of the building, and he tells me everybots names as they walk through the doors.

"There are the triplets, Arcee Chromia, and Moonracer. They're not actually triplets, but the humans call them that. Ah, and here comes Ultra Magnus. Back on Cybertron he used to outrank everyone but Optimus. Had his own command. He was in charge of the wreckers. The only person they would ever listen to. He never did want to be a commander though. He stepped down when he arrived on earth with Wheeljack and the wreckers."

I observed Ultra Magnus as Prowl fed me information. He is almost as tall as Optimus, and has the same proud bearing. His sky blue armour has white accents, and I wonder if it is a voluntary choice. He enters the hangar, turns left, and positions himself in the back corner. He turns his gaze toward me, and begins to stare. Or, more of a glare really.

I looked away quickly, and Prowl begins to point out the other bots who have entered the hangar. "That's Skids, and his brother Mudflap. They're twins, but not like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Sunny and Sides had the same creators, and when they were sparked, it was immediately apparent that they were twins. But Skids and Mudflap had different creators. They were sparked on the same day, at the same time. And their creators took them home without ever realizing what happened."

Prowl sighed. "But they were too young to know how to handle being away from their each-other. They began to grow weak. Ratchet was called to check Skids, and it was he who told the creators that Skids was a twin. It wasn't long after that they located Mudflap and his family. And the rest isn't hard to figure out. Jazz has this idea that the reason those twins are so fragged, is because they were seperated so young."

I laugh out loud at this, and the triplets all glance warily at me. I note out of the corner of my vision, that Ultra Magnus is still staring at me. "Are they the ones who got in a fight earlier?" I ask. Prowl nods. "Do they do that often?"

Prowl turns to look me in the optic. "Without exception, they get into at least three fights every day." he growls out. "Ah, and here are the wreckers. That's Roadbuster, Topspin, Bulkhead, and Leadfoot." He points to each mech in turn. "And you already know Hound, Red-Alert, First-Aid, Bluestreak, and Sunstreaker from our team. I think the only ones who aren't here, are Bumblebee, Jolt, Blurr, and Mirage. And they're all out on assignment."

As prowl finishes naming everyone, Ratchet enters the hangar. He makes his way over to Prowl, and I give them some space. Though I can still hear what they're saying.

"Is he coming?" Prowl asks.

Ratchet shrugs. "I honestly don't know." He replies. "He won't talk to me. He just ignores me if it has anything to do with her. I've never seen anybot react this way to their sparkmate before. I've seen anger before, or confusion, but it never lasts long. It's been two days for Primus' sake! He should be begging her to bond with him by now!"

I feel my faceplates heat up as I realize who they are talking about.

"I'm sure he has his reasons." Prowl says. "He'll come around. I'm sure he just doesn't know what to do. He's been a soldier, a leader for so long. He'll figure it all out. In the meantime, try and get him to talk to you. You are his oldest friend. And you know how he gets when he keeps it bottled up."

Ratchet nods, and they both turn to me. "The stage is yours, femme." Ratchet says.

I nod nervously and step forward. "Hi." I say to the crowd. I can almost hear cyberbugs chirping it's so silent. "So, uh. I'm Silverbolt. Most of you probably hate me, or think I'm a no good Decepticon. And I don't blame you. But I want to tell you, to show you why I'm here, and what the autobot cause means to me."

I glance about the room, and see I've gotten their attention now. I take in a large cycle of air, and try to calm my wavering spark. Only Sunstreaker, Prowl, and Alpha Trion have ever heard my whole story. I activate my holo projector, and fill the space in fron of me with images and memories to help me show my story. Then I begin to speak.

_About a vorn before the war began, before anyone really knew that war was coming, my creators, Racerunner and Skydive built my frame._

My voice shakes a bit as I say their names.

_They took it to the Allspark, where I was sparked before the disciples of Primus. I lived happily with my creators for a hundred cycles, before things turned dark._

_Racerunner was, as you might guess, a racer. And Skydive was a sculptor, with several small prizes for designing the crystal gardens around our city. My home city of Lumia. It was a beautiful place. Home primarily to artists, and singers. I was training to be a singer. Had my life gone differently, I would have fulfilled that dream._

_Most of you probably don't know this, but when the war was still young, the Decepticons began the practice of kidnapping younglings for their army. That was probably the bisggest reason that their ranks expanded so quickly._

_They would raid cities and massicre families. They would take the younglings back to Kaon, where they had a manufacturing plant established by the Decepticon scientist Shockwave. The manufacturing plant produced frames. Adult frames that the younglings were then forced to transfer into._

_There were two advantages to their method. The first being that that their army began to increase exponentially. The more younglings they catured, the more soldiers they produced and therefore, the more younglings could be captured in the next raid, etc. etc._

_The second advantage to their method, was that the 'soldiers' produced by this method were often unable to cope with the forced transfer. Younglings who transfer before they are ready, often go mad, or simply become brain dead. Such was the case with most of the younglings who went through this process. This made them the perfect soldiers, mindlessly following orders. No will or thought of their own, no longer able to cope with reality._

Most _of the younglings ended up this way, but not all. There were on occasion, younglings abducted in this manner, who had already been preparing to transfer into their adult frames, before they were taken by a decepticon raid. And thus, when the transfer was forced. They did not go mad or lose their mind alltogether. _

_I was one such youngling. On the eve of my fifteen-hundred and twenty-seventh spark day, the decepticons raided Lumia, and murdered my creators before my eyes. _

I look about the room. There is pity in the optics of the triplets. It seems I may already have won them over. Though it seems the rest of the room is a tough croud. But Ultra magnus _has_ dropped his death stare, so perhaps I'm getting somewhere. I meet Sunstreakers optics, and he nods in encouragement. I continue.

_The next thing I knew I was in freezers, and being dragged behind a line of other younglings._

_When they forced the frame transfer on me, I though I would end up like all the others. Dead inside. A mindless drone. The relief I felt when I woke, and I was still, _myself,_ was indescribeable. I was afraid of course, and disoriented, because the frame was not built specifically for me. In fact, It was quite a bit bigger than the designs for my own adult frame had been. _

_Those of us who were still sane went through a sort of training program, which was intended to brainwash us, and groom us into leading the drones. I played it smart. Did as I was told. Despite the fact that I had my sanity, and my processors were more or less intact, I knew If I tried to escape, I would be killed. So I played along. Marched when they told me to march, and shot when they told me to shoot._

_I wasn't stupid. I knew the only way to survive, was to become a Decepticon. And so I took everything that was good in me, and I put it away. Deep down in my spark, where it would stay forever._

_I was a good little soldier. I was quick, and clever, and ruthless. Eventually, my reputation as a smart and innovative warrior got me noticed in exactly the right way. Several solar cycles after my abduction, Shockwave requested my services as his assistant._

_From that pont on, I assimilated myself to Shockwaves silent but studious ways. But the silence left me alone with my thoughts too often, and I began to wonder if this was all my life would ever be. The 'goodness' that I had buried so deep inside myself emerged, and I vowed that I would do whatever it took to escape, and fight for the Autobots._

_That vow became my obsession. I planned and plotted night and day. I had open access to the majority of Shockwaves archives, and I filed away intel and information that I though might aid the autobots. But the right opportunity for escape never came._

_I spent thirty solar cycles in the service of shockwave, before the war took a turn, and I was called to the front lines. I was terrified. Not of fighting. I had done plenty of that. I was scared of killing an autobot. I considered my true alligiance to be to them._

_But once again I hardened my spark, and did what I had to do. I spent the next twelve vorns keeping myself alive, and searching desperately for a way to escape._

Throughout my story, the twins, Skidds and Mudflap had kept up a constant chatter. Now though, they were silent. Everybot was listening to me. And I hoped that by the end of this, they would begin to trust me. I didn't expect to be best friends, but I hoped that I would find a place here. I've been searching for my place for a long time.

_Throughout my campaign, I met several other bots who had the same origin story as myself. Most of them were distant, broken or simply not quite right. Most died, or dissapeared soon after I met them. But one stuck in my mind long after we parted ways._

_Tenspeed was young mech, who like me had been abducted as a youngling. He had been old enough to resist the mind-wipe effects of the forced transfer, but it did take its toll on him. Tenspeed was absolutely mad. _

_He seemed normal to me at first. He was freindly enough, and he didn't have the 'kill everybot' attitude that a lot of other 'cons had. We got along well, and tag-teamed quite a bit. We were formidable together on the battlefield. But I soon discovered that as much as I was a lover, a supporter of the autobot cause, he hated them._

_Sure, he hated the Decepticons. Everyone like us did. But he hated the Autobots even more. He was convinced that the Autobots knew of our plight. He was positive that they had known all along that these abductions and massicres were happening. To him they knew all, but simply did nothing. And it was unforgivable._

I sigh, and Prowl touches my shoulder. Emotional gestures usually aren't his thing, but even Prowl can see that this is hard for me.

_I was sure that If the Autobots and Optimus Prime had known the situation they would have leapt to our aid. But as I discovered the extent of Tenspeeds rage, I began to distance myself from him. His madness ran deep, and I knew I would never be able to talk him down. He would kill me if he knew I secretly supported the Autobots, and I didn't want to fight my once friend. _

_We went our seperate ways for some time, and met again several solar cycles later. We resumed a casual, if tense friendship. I remained distanced from him. His madness had worsened, if that was possible. _

_Meanwhile, the Decepticons had slowly been advancing toward Iacon, and soon, our camps were preparing to meet the Autobot forces outside the city. Somehow I knew this would be my only opportunity to escape._

_I asked Tenspeed to assist me, and he agreed. He didn't know the extent of my plan, but he sensed my need to be free of the Decepticons. The idea was simple enough. Tenspeed would give me a wound upon my chassis. I would play dead on the battlefield, and sneak into Iacon after the coast was clear._

_I would make for the hall of records, where I was told refugees were holing up in the catacombs. I hoped I would be granted asylum._

I chuckle as I recall the events that followed. _Things didn't go exactly as planned. The battle began, and Tenspeed did as I asked him. But he did his job almost too well. The Autobots won the battle, and the Decepticons retreated to their camps. I was left on the fields as planned, but I was steadily leaking energon, and in poor condition._

_My plans had all gone to scrap. That was until Hound and his team found me. The battle had been over for joors, but I was leaking fresh energon, and that was like a beacon for Hound._

Hound smirks at my subtle flattery. And I take a moment to appraise his new armor. It seems he has rejected all the shiny cars in Wheeljacks hangar in favor of a simple army jeep. It suits him though.

_Hound would have killed me then and there. I owe my life to First-Aid. He begged Hound to let him save me, and take me prisoner instead._

_So First-Aid patched me up, and they marched me back to Iacon. First-Aid cleaned me up the rest of the way, and then Prowl ordered me tossed into a containment cell deep in the catacombs._

_I was there for several mega-cycles before Alpha Trion found me. He didn't say anything, just looked at me for a moment, then opened my cell and gestured for me to follow. He seemed to take the longest route past the most bots, and I later realized he had done just that, in order to to wordlessly communicate that I was with him._

_Alpha Trion always had a way of conveying his exact thoughts without ever saying a word. Not that he didn't talk. He and I often spoke at great length. _

_Alpha Trion taught me a great deal, and Hound and Prowl and the others began to trust me. I helped fight off several Decepticon raids, and I was constantly down in the catacombs helping to organize refugees. That was hard at first. All the refugees were afraid of me. I tried to be gentle, but my armour was in the Decepticon style, and I had their emblem on my shoulder. To them, I looked like a killer._

_Eventually, I asked Alpha Trion to help me grind it off. He took me to the medbay, and there I met Sunstreaker._

I grin over at the mech in question, and he puffs out his chassis.

_We became friends quickly, and had all sorts of adventures. That's code for causing all sorts of trouble._

A couple bots chuckled, and Sideswipe clapped his twin on the shoulder.

_I spent another two groons among the company of my friends before the unbeleivable happened. The Autobots began to lose the war. _

_Alpha Trion immediately began jettisoning artifacts off world. The first artifact to go was the Allspark, and with it, the war._

_Megatron and Optimus followed the Allspark to Earth, and the rest of the Autobots began preparing to follow him. Soon though, we had no choice but to leave._

_Cybertron was dying. Alpha Trion outfitted the final evacuation ship to send any Autobots who wanted to follow Optimus after the Allspark._

_And so, Hound, Prowl, Sunstreaker, Red-alert, Bluestreak, First-Aid, and myself were sent offworld with the few remaining artifacts to join Optimus Prime, wherever he was._

_Alpha Trion gave us the coordinates for a distant planet that he thought Optimus may have been headed for. When I asked him if he was coming, he simply smiled. He told me that someone had to evacuate the civilians from our dying homeworld._

_Our journey to earth took roughly twelve-hundred vorns, and we took a lot of damage along the way. I was in the aft of the ship, when a meteor hit one of our engines outside of earths atmosphere. The resulting explosion blew the ship in half, and you guys know the rest..._

There is silence for a long time. But I can practically see the cogs turning, and the processors filing away all this new information.

Skidds and Mudflap are the first to speak. "Aw shit mane." Skidds says. "Why you gotta tell all this sad ass shit?"

"Yea," His brother echoes. "now we caint be ecksited 'bout some drama witha lady 'con hangin around base, cus you got us all likin' you now... Wachu got ta say huh?"

"Uh." I say.

"Mane, why you gotta rag on her huh?" Skidds punches his brother on the shoulder. "She h'aint done nothin' wrong. Well, 'cept for be a decepticon for a coupla hunerd years. But other than that, she a nice lady. "

"Hey bro, why you godda hate? Huh? Yous and me is bros, and you all punchin and tellin' me off!" Mudflap gets up, and shoves Skidds off the bench.

"Alright, put it in neutral mechs." Ultra Magnus calls from his corner.

The twins turn toward the big mech, and begin to curse at him. They use a mixture of cybertronian and human curses, and it begins to get quite creative.

Things escalate quickly from there, and I just sit back and decide to ride it out.

I spy movement from the corner of my optic, and I turn to look at the slightly open hangar door. I see blue and red flames retreating from the puddle of light that spills out onto the tarmac.

My spark aches, and I feel a flash of anger.

I hate it. I hate that I love him. I don't even know him, and I love him. I hate that he is in my thoughts and I hate that I have to hate him. Because it's either that, or allow myself to love him.

And loving him hurts. It hurts more than any blaster wound or crushed pede, or fractured helm.

**Vocab:**

**Joor-Century Helm-Head Freezers-Cuffs that freeze your upper body Slag-Shit Femme-Female**

**Groon-Decade Optics-Eyes Processor-Brain/Mind Chassis-Chest Aft-Ass Mech-Male**

**Klik-Minute Servos-Hands Frame-Body Spark-Soul Sparkmates-Soulmates **

**Primus-Soul of Cybertron/God**

**Any other unfamiliar words? Feel free to let me know. I'm happy to translate in the next chapter. Please review, I'd love to know your thoughts!**


	3. Prime Time Television

**BONUS CHAPTER! I've already written chapter three, but I had this idea, and I really wanted to do it. Here is an Optimus POV that takes place at the same time as chapter 2. Enjoy!**

Optimus Prime was not having a good day. Sitting at his desk, sorting through datapads, Optimus growled to himself. He hated being in such a foul mood, but there was no helping it. Several reports had come in, laying out the state of their supplies and it didn't look good.

They were low on almost everything and their energon stockpile while sufficient for the moment, was steadily depleting with no way to aquire more. In addition, the twins (both sets of them) had nearly demolished one of the barracks hangars. Incidentally, it had not been the hangar that any of them actually used for recharge.

And to top it off, _she_ had shown up two days ago. She had been the last thing he had expected. His sparkmate, showing up in the middle of this mess...

He couldn't think of her though. He simply couldn't allow himself to. She was a distraction. And as much as it hurt both of them to ignore their connection, he had to.

Because being a Prime meant never thinking of himself. He hated that he was causing her pain. And he could _feel _her pain. His end of their link may have been closed, but hers was wide open. He tried to push her to the back of his mind, but he could still feel her emotions coloring his own.

Confusion, curiosity, brief sadness, and pain too. He got the impression that she was talking to somebot. Then, the impression of laughter. Someone was making her laugh. Optimus wasn't sure why this bothered him.

There is a tap at his office door, and he shakes her out of his thoughts, and picks up a datapad. "Enter." He says.

Ratchet slides the door open, and slips inside. He meanders over to Optimus' desk. "What are you doing right now?" He asks casually.

Optimus looks up from the datapad he is pretending to read. "Why do you ask?" He says to his friend suspiciously.

Ratchet shuffles his peds a bit. "Silverbolt is preparing to tell us her tale, you should-"

"No." Prime says, returning to his datapad.

"Optimus-" Ratchet begins again.

"No."

"You cannot treat her this way!" Ratchet cries. "It's going to break you both. If you continue to..." Optimus lets Ratchets voice fade away as he opts to ignore his oldest friend. He knows it's childish. But he has been trying for the past two cycles to get her out of his helm.

Ratchet isn't helping either. He's pestered Optimus for the past few days, and now the Prime has resorted to the silent treatment any time the femme is mentioned.

Ratchet sighs is exasperation. "Fine." He says. "Act like a sparkling." He moves over, and slumps into the seat across from the Prime's desk.

"How are our supplies looking?" He asks.

Optimus sighs heavily. "Our energon is only going to last us another earth year at most, and that's only if we restrict its use to sustaining our frames and nothing else." he taps in a few figures on his datapad, and continues. "If we had a reliable source of energon, wheeljack and the wreckers could manufacture most of the other things that we require. The entire problem is energon. It does not often occur naturally on this planet as I understand."

Ratchet nods. "Well I don't mean to worsen the problem, but if anybot is injured, their energon consumtion doubles for the duration of the recovery process."

Optimus scowls at his datapad as he adds these new figures to the chart. "Well then, we need to plan for only having energon for the next six months..."

"We're fragged then. The medic snorts. Optimus vents a huge sigh. "Sorry Prime." His friend says.

Optimus sets aside his datapad, and leans forward on his elbow joints. "Why cannot there be any good news for once, old friend?"

Ratchet coughs conspicuously. "Good news was sitting in my medbay two nights ago Prime, and you ignored it." Optimus glares at his CMO, and picks up the datapad again. "You cannot deny your spark her precence Optimus." Ratchet says. "It's going to drive you both mad! And the last thing I need is a crazy Prime, and a psychotic ex-'Con." Ratchet's rant comes to an end, but once again, Optimus is steadfastly ignoring him.

Ratchet stands abruptly, and throws his servos up in irritation. "Optimus did you ever think that there was a _reason_ she appeared now? The two of you _need_ each-other."

Optimus keeps his silence. He agrees with the old mech. But he cannot afford to waver. He has a duty to _all _of his troops. He cannot afford to be selfish.

"She can't use her alt-mode." Ratchet mutters in a last-ditch attempt to get the Primes attention. It works, because Optimus' audio dials rotate and click a few times. A sign he's listening even if he's not responding.

"Something the 'Cons did to her." Ratchet continues. Optimus still doesnt reply, and Ratchet knows he's said all he can. He sighs heavily. "Everybot has gathered in the rec hangar to hear her story. I'd encourage you to come, Prime."

Ratchet turns and leaves, and Optimus slowly sets down his datapad. He's hurting her. He's Hurting her, and he's hurting himself, and he doesn't know what else to do.

_..."Something the 'Cons did to her."... _Ratchets words echo in his processors. What else did they do to her? Suddenly, Optimus realizes that he's gotten to his peds.

He tells himself that he's only going because he has a duty to supervise the activities of his troops. That's what he says to reassure himself. When he gets to the rec hangar, he finds the door still slightly open, and the light from within casts a bright spot on the ground outside.

He doesnt go in. She's already started, and he doesnt want to interrupt. She's talking about working for Shockwave, and now he's interested. He steps closer and settles in to listen. She speaks of the war and recounts battles both physical, and within herself.

She tells of an old friend, driven mad by the cruelty of the Decepticons. Optimus feels her mood change as she begins to talk about how she met Hound and Prowl.

She speaks too, about Optimus' own mentor Alpha Trion. Who it seems had taken her under his wing as well. Optimus wonders if his old mentors legendary foresight could have predicted this.

The femme tells the group how she befriended Sunstreaker, and a genuine smile forms on her faceplates. Optimus feels something in his spark, and he realises it is jealousy. He crushes it quickly, and tries to empty his mind.

As she speaks he feels her emotions, and they become his own. She thinks he does not care, and he laments that fact.

She finishes speaking, and Skidds and Mudflap begin to argue. Optimus decides to leave before anybot ever knows he was there.

As he walks away, he glances behind him. She's seen him, and he feels a flash of genuine and intense anger, accompanied by sadness and pain.

He clenches his servo as he walks away. And he realises something; In the last few days, he has felt every emotion from her but one.

Happiness.

Optimus retires to his berth for the night with guilt in his spark.


	4. Angry Words and Fists

**Yeah, I know, Im a terrible person. I told people that I would update and I haven't... Sorry. Had to work until midnight these past two days.**

**Anyway, WHAT THE FRAG?! Anyone else see Age of Extinction? I practically shat myself... Im still not sure what to think of that... Its not that It was bad. It was pretty good. (Though they could have left out a few things to simplify it just a squidge) But... Just, what? What happened there? Everybot is dead... and they make us watch as Ratchet dies too? Why would they do that?**

**Sooo, my overall review is: It was okay... Not bad, Definitely like the first three WAY more. I think it really felt like a stand-alone movie... Which is good, because I'm still not gonna use the content of Age of Extinction as a reference for my story... But I **_**may**_** start another story that occurs after AoE? Who's interested?**

**Anyway, Chapter three. Just for you. :)**

* * *

Several weeks after the meeting in the recreation hangar, I'm standing beside Ironhide in the middle of the 'training field'. It isn't really a training field. Just a cracked, overgrown section of tarmac at the end of the landing strip. Flanked on either side by the weapons hangar, and the medbay.

The third lieutenant and I are spectating along with all the other bots as Skids and Mudflap face off against Prowl. Prowl is directing the twins as they come at him, correcting their mistakes, and giving them pointers. Though so far as I can tell, they lack the skill or the tact to take Prowl on in a serious fight. Which is what makes this a learning match I guess.

"Yah!" Jazz shouts from Ironhides other side. "You get 'em Prowler!"

Prowl makes an irritated noise. "It's a learning session Jazz, not a pit fight."

"I know that sparklove." Jazz answers smartly. "But I rather like seein' ya fight like this. It's exciting!"

Ironhide shoves Jazz on the shoulder. "All right mechs, enought flirting. Prowl, you wanna finish this up and give somebot else a turn?"

No sooner do these words leave Ironhides mouth, then Prowl is moving aggressively toward the twins. He takes down Skids and Mudflap in just a few short moves, and leaves them groaning on the asphalt.

"Bravo, bravo." Ironhide claps his servos as the twins clear the sparring circle. "Arite 'Bots, who's next?"

All the other bots look around. But no one wants to challenge Prowl. Now that the learning match is over, the first lieutenant is looking for a _real_ fight.

So, I raise my servo and step forward. "I'll do it." I say casually. I've spent a lot of time with Prowl ever since Alpha Trion let me out of my cage, but I've never yet sparred with him.

Moonracer gasps, an Arcee and Chromia begin to whisper furiously. "You sure you wanna do that?" Chromia calls over to me.

Ironhide laughs at his mate. "Of course she does Chromia!" The big black mech turns to me. "Prowl is all yours, femme."

I nod and face the center of the ring where Prowl stands stock-still. I know his processors are already doing their thing. He is analyzing, planning how to take me down. He's likely marked my sensory equipment as my most vulnerable point.

The sensors are located in appendages on my back. Something the bots have taken to calling 'doorwings'. But because I cannot access my alt-form, I am unable to apply armour to my own 'doorwings', which makes them more vulnerable than normal. A fact I'm positive Prowl has noted. But Prowls own doorwings are a fair target themselves.

From what I know of the first lieutenant, he typically picks a strategy, and attacks using that method, until he either takes out his opponent, or decides that a different strategy is warranted. This means that my own strategy _has _to work, because I can only outsmart Prowl once. After that, it's over.

My most likely chance is to go on the defensive, let Prowl take a few shots at me and see if I can discern his 'tell'. The thing that lets me know when and where he's going to attack. A twitch of a servo, a shift in weight. Anything.

With this plan of action in mind I lower my visor and begin to circle one way, Prowl another. And the fight begins.

"Yeah, _thats_ mah Prowler!" Jazz shouts.

Prowl smirks though he keeps his deadly gaze on me. "At least your cheering is appropriate this time, Jazz." His mate laughs wickedly, and I smile. Quicker than a viper, Prowl strikes and I dance quickly out of his reach laughing all the while.

"Awww," I say. "Isn't anyone gonna cheer for me?"

Immediately, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker begin to shout my name and cheer me on. I grin.

Prowl and I continue to circle each-other, and he strikes twice more. He tries to use his height advantage to reach around me and strike at my doorwings. But I twist away and continue to circle. As we continue our dance, I spot Optimus over Prowls left shoulder. He has emerged from his office, and is making his way toward the group that now watches our match intently.

My spark jumps and Prowl uses my distraction against me, striking faster than ever. He almost gets me too, but I'm just quick enought to slip away. I lose sight of Optimus, as Prowl and I continue to circle. But this only helps me to better focus. I realise that Prowl will probably change his strategy soon, and then I will never be able to win.

I have to end this _now_. I focus intensely on Prowl, and that's when I see it. His tell. Just before he springs at me again, his doorwings twitch in the direction he plans on going. I dodge him again, but I don't move as far away this time, and Prowl takes this as an invitation to attack again. I'm ready for him.

He strikes, and I use his momentum against him, throwing him past me. I spin, and follow up with a kick to the back of the knee joints. He goes sprawling, and I dive after him. I end the fight by placing my servos at the base of his doorwings, ready to tear the sensitive appendages from his back.

"Dead." I say softly.

"Impressive femme." Ironhide says. He is still standing at the edge of the circle next to Jazz, but now Optimus has taken my place at his other side. I fight back a sigh as the sight of him sparks a familiar pain in my chassis. I let Prowl go, and extend a servo to help him up. He graciously accepts my help, and pulls himself to his peds.

"Nice work." He says. "You up for a bit more of a challenge?" He asks.

"Always ready to teach, eh Prowl?" I say. "All right, what have you got for me?"

Prowl waves over Jazz. "Let's see how you do against multiple opponents." He says.

"Aw, Prowly-poo!" I exclaim. "You're makin' it too easy!"

"Hey!" Jazz Protests. "That ain't nice!"

Prowl ignores his mate. "Fine." He says and crosses his servos. He nods at Bluestreak. "You're up mech."

The reserved mech steps forward, and joins Prowl and Jazz in facing me. Prowl gestures his two sparring partners closer. He whispers something quietly, and Bluestreak and Jazz both nod. Prowl and Jazz spit up, and flank me, while Bluestreak slowly comes at me head-on.

I know if I back up, I will be gutted by the pair of mates behind me. But I can't move to the sides either, because then I'll just be sandwiched between Bluestreak and one of the other two. I think that if I can take out Bluestreak first, I can finish off Prowl and Jazz by using them against each other. As I continue to study Bluestreak though, a thought occurs to me. What if I can take out _all of them_ at once?

I take a gamble, and Implement my idea. I jump at Bluestreak and he is surprised, to say the least. he puts up a quick defence, and I throw everything i've got at him. I have to take him out now, before the other two can nab me from behind.

I have to pull a move that he will never expect. But what? I'm running out of time and I have only nano-kliks before Prowl and Jazz close in and I'm dead meat.

Bluestreak isn't much taller than me but as a mech, his top half is substantially heavier. If I can hit right, he should be easy to push over. I glance behind me. Jazz and Prowl are only feet away. Bluestreak throws a punch at me, and I sieze my chance.

I grab his servo, and turn my back to him. Then I pull with all my might, and throw him over my shoulder at the two mechs who are about to attack me. As I throw him, I feel something in my right arm crack. And I grunt when the pain reaches me.

I arm my guns, and approach the three mechs who are lying in a heap on the ground. I fire blanks at each of them in turn as they try to disentangle themselves from one another.

I leven my gun at Prowls head. "Dead." I say again. Then I offer him my servo as I did before. Once all three mechs are back on their feet, Prowl speaks to me.

"Your simple yet unorthodox approach is surprisingly effective. I will have to devise new strategies for the next time we spar."

I smile and nod. "Looking forward to it." I say.

One of the wreckers, Topspin I believe his name is. Addresses me. "Not bad, femme." He says as Jazz and Prowl walk over to Ironhide, and Bluestreak returns to where he was standing by Sunny and Sides. "Did the Decepticons teach you that?" He asks.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he realises his mistake. There is dead silence, as everybot waits to see how I'll answer.

I snort. "No." I say simply. "I taught me that. Not the 'Cons."

He nods and dips his helm apologetically, and I wave him off and pretend like it didn't bother me. Instead, I look around the circle. "Who's next bots?" I say, plastering a huge grin on my faceplates. I look over to Sunny and Sides. "Care to go a few rounds Sunstreaker?" I ask playfully.

He just grins at me and shakes his helm. "Not a chance Silver. You kicked my aft plenty when we were back on Cybertron, I'll pass."

I mock pout, and put a servo on my hip. "Awww, c'mon Sunny! You can even bring Sideswipe with you!"

But Sunstreaker is adamant. "Then you'll just kick both our afts. I'm stayin' right here."

Ratchet, miraculously appears from nowhere at Optimus' side. "You should challenge Bumblebee to a few rounds when he returns. He has a similar fighting style to yourself." The old medic gives some surprising advice. I nod at him.

"I'll remember to do that." I say. I look around the circle. "Really? Nobot wants to spar with me?" I ask. Everybot shifts uncomfortably, and looks at each-other, and I guess that the fights are over, because Optimus takes his cue to leave.

And for some reason, that pisses me off.

"Hey Prime!" I say, barely containing the growl in my voice.

He turns to look at me though he says nothing.

"Think you're tough enough to have a go?" I ask. I unsheath my right-hand blade, and point it at him.

For the first time since our moment in the medbay, he looks directly into my optics. "I don't think that is a good Idea femme." He says quietly.

His voice has me weak in the knee joints, but his words just piss me off more. I begin to stride toward him angrily.

"I have a name you know. It's Silverbolt." I say. "Silverbolt, not femme, or 'Con, or 'side jumper'. Like everyone is calling me."

I stride right up to him, and look up into his optics. He's more than twice my height, and I really have to angle my helm to look at him. I feel slightly ridiculous. But I'm too ticked to care.

"I want you to call me by my _name_." I say savagely. "And I want you, _to_ _fight me_."

I want more than just that though. I wan him to acknowledge me. I want him to stop ignoring my existence. I want him to look at me, and see something other than the femme who has messed up his perfect little world. I want him to see an autobot. A soldier. A comrade, willing to fight and die for him regardless of the fact that we're supposedly sparkmates.

But all he sees when he looks at me is the twisted confustion in his own spark.

In the few seconds since my little outburst, he's gone from indifferent, to angry. And I'm not sure if I like that, or if I'm in deep shit.

I'm vaguely aware of Moonracer whimpering, but I've got this sort of tunnel vision that only occurs when I'm well and truly pissed. I'm practically lying in my grave now, and I simply have moved beyond the point of caring.

I'm aware that part of this reckless anger has to do with the damage to my processors when the decepticons forced my frame transfer. But I wonder just how much of that is really damage to my logic systems, and how much is a developemental result of simply being at war for so long.

Optimus puts his servos on his hips and angles his helm toward me. The look in his optics is hard and cold. "I will gave you one last chance, _femme_. Back off. You do not want to fight me."

"I think I do." I say, a feral edge sneaking into my voice. A remnant from my darker days.

Optimus slowly reaches a servo up behing his head, and grasps the handle of his sword. I step aside, and he strides toward the center of the circle.

By this point, we've attracted the attention of the humans, and a small group of them migrates over to watch us. Ironhide shakes his head at me, but it's too late to back out now. And I've kinda lost it anyway. I turn and stalk toward Optimus, twirling my blade as I go.

We begin to circle even as Prowl and I had done just minutes before.

I quickly size him up. My previous oponents were closer to my size, but the Prime has by far the greatest height and reach advantage. I have to stay out of arms reach at all costs. But In order to hit him, I also have to get in close. I'll need to disarm him. But after that, it's going to be a lot harder. He is simply too _big_.

I run at him with a shout, and swing my blade at his unguarded left side. He blocks, and it jars my shoulder. The same one I fractured when I threw Bluestreak. I'd forgotten. He retaliates with a huge sweeping blow that forces me to jump back a good ten feet.

We begin to circle again, and Optimus is the next to strike. He lashes out wildly with his blade. We are both pissed, and that makes us sloppy. But the difference between us is that he's just sloppy, whereas I'm sloppy, _and _quick. I dart inside his guard, and strike his arm just above the servo.

He cries out in surprise and pain, as he releases his sword. The weapon goes flying, and Sunny and Sides have to dodge the spinning blade.

Optimus wastes no time going after his fallen weapon. Instead, he grabs my servo before I can escape his reach and pulls me toward him, pinning me against his chassis.

I am now dangling in his arms, pinned with my back to his chassis in a literal iron grip. I slam the back of my helm once, twice against his faceplates, and laugh manically as he groans in pain. He has me trapped though, and I begin to run though my limited options.

"Do you concede, _femme_?" He asks me in a low growl.

"Go to pit Prime!" I hiss at him. I begin to twist my shoulders against his grip. The fracture in my right shoulder groans and creaks, and I can feel the metal begin to warp. Suddenly, the shoulder joint snaps, and collapses in on itself.

I scream in pain. I won't be able to use that arm anytime soon, but my shoulders are now small enough that I am able to slip out of Primes grasp. I land heavily on my peds, and gasp in pain as the impact jars my shoulder. But I waste no time on my pain or my injuries. Instead, I spin around before Optimus can react. I crouch low, push off with my peds as hard as I can and headbut Optimus Prime in the abdomen.

He goes sprawling, and lands on his aft, and I get in a kick, and a punch with my good arm. Before he rolls over, and regains his peds. I continue to advance, and he holds a defensive stance as I rail him with kicks and punches. I don't realise that by this point, he has lost his anger and is simply letting me vent mine.

My right arm is dangling uselessly at my side and my left servo and both peds are dented, and the protoform bruised from hitting him so many times. His armour doesnt even look scratched.

Eventually I run out of steam and just stand there with my good arm raised, cycling huge vents of air to cool my systems. Optimus gradually lowers his guard when it becomes clear that I'm done, and he slowly walks toward me.

"Are you finished?" He asks so only I can hear. I dont answer, and he kneels down in front of me, peering cautiously into my faceplates. "Are you finished, Silverbolt?" He asks again. My optics snap up to meet his, and I nod and slowly lower my arm.

He stands and puts a servo under my good shoulder. "Lets get you to medbay." He says. "Ratchet, give me a hand."

Ratchet hurries over, and moves to my other side. He puts a supporting servo on my back, just under my doorwings. Moonracer, the youngest of the three sisters steps toward me timidly. "Silverbolt, are you all right?" She asks worriedly. "What happened? You... didn't seem like yourself."

I glance about wearily. I really didn't want anybot to know this. "I-" I stutter, and struggle to crush my growing sense of shame. "I lost control. The Decepticons did more damage to me than I let on. But the truth it that sometimes I just lose my head."

Prowl and Hound have both been on the receiving end of one of my little episodes, and Sunstreaker once came close, though he never knew...

Prowl interjects, and I am endlessly grateful. "Silverbolt sometimes suffers from flashbacks. Certain events or actions may trigger what we took to calling her 'dark side'. In a way, she reverts to her Decepticon persona." Prowl pauses and lets this sink in. "It's a _very_ rare occurence, and Sunstreaker or myself can usually calm her." He looks about at all the bots. "Any questions?" He asks. Bots all around shake their helms, and begin to disperse to their various duties for the day.

But I an see in their glances that we've moved back to square one. They're afraid of me again. They mistrust me. I don't blame them. How could I? It simply makes my spark unbearably sad.

Optimus and Ratchet begin to slowly guide me to the medbay, but it is more than I can bear to be so close to Optimus. I shrug away from the two of them and continue limping on my own toward the hangar. Once inside, I find the nearest berth, and collapse onto it. I feel utterly spent. Ratched hurries over to the energon dispenser, and fills me a cube of medical-grade. He hands it to me wordlessly, and moves to fetch his tools.

Optimus sits on the berth opposite me, and we sit in silence for a few tense moments. Ratchet returns and quickly begins to work on my shoulder. Finally, I address the Prime. "The others are beginning to notice that you're avoiding me." I say, point blank. He says nothing, but I can feel him looking at me. I glance up to meet his gaze. "Arcee flat-out asked me if I stabbed you the first time we met. And even Skids and Mudflap have noticed something is up."

He sighs and drags a servo across his faceplates and looks back at me. "I'm sorry." He says, and I'm taken-aback by his apology. "Do you understand why I have to do this?" He asks. "Why I have to distance myself from you?"

I nod. It hadn't taken me long to figure out. But that didn't mean I wasn't still angry and hurt. "I think so." I say. "You're a Prime. You have a duty to your troops in times of war, and a duty to your people in times of peace. You must deny yourself everything until your people have all they need."

He seems to deflate in relief, and I realise that maybe this has been just as hard for him. "I truly am sorry Silverbolt." He says, looking into my optics. I know he is earnest, and that is what makes all this _that_ much harder.

I sigh and take a long drink of energon. I let the silence brew for a while before I finally speak to that.

"It hurts." I say, and he flinches. "It hurts to be so near you, and not to be _with_ you. Its like my spark is trying to break out of my chassis every time I see you. It causes me actual physical pain!"

He nods sadly. "Your pain is also my own." He says. "And if there were any way for me to give you what you need, while still fulfilling my duties, I would do it in a sparkbeat."

I smile ruefully. "So, when... will we ever be able to... can we ever be..." I'm not sure what exactly I'm asking him. But he seems to get it.

His answer is immediate. "It may never come to pass... But should the day come when the Decepticon threat is no more, we can be mates." He gazes at me with unbridled intensity. "I swear to you."

I give him a small smile, and the pain in my spark eases the tiniest bit. Ratchet snorts. "Well finally." He says sarcastically.

"What?" I ask in irritation.

"The two of you are finally _getting_ somewhere." He says. I scoff and then wince as the medic tweaks something in my shoulder.

Optimus and I sit in silence while Ratchet works. I finish off my energon, and Optimus gets me another cube full. I'm gonna need it too. I fragged up my shoulder pretty bad.

I speak to Optimus again. "I think it would be better if we actually spoke to each-other on occasion. You need to stop avoiding me. And you need to assign me a job on base. Right now, I'm the only bot who doesnt report directly to your office, and the others have taken notice." I chuckle darkly. "Plus I can't go off base, so I'm fragging bored."

Prime nods. "I will see what I can do."

Ratchet coughs politely.

"Yes?" I ask him as I roll my optics.

"I was actually hoping that you could come on as my assistant." He says casually.

"Isn't First-Aid your apprentice?" I ask him.

Ratchet 'hums' in confirmation. "Yes, but First-Aid is a doctor." He says. "I want to train you to be a field medic."

I frown in confusion and look to Optimus. He shrugs. He's just as lost as I am. "Uh Ratchet, the whole point of Optimus finding me a job on base, is because I _can't_ go in the field."

Ratchet gives a final tug on the circuits in my arm. He's a little more rough than necesary, and I hiss in pain. "Well." He says in response. "We're just going to have to fix that." He steps away from me. "So, you'll report to me at dawn. Now if you don't mind, I am going to spend the afternoon with my mate."

With that, the medic turns and walks out of the medbay. The Prime and I watch him go. "Has he always been that... _sassy_?" I ask Optimus.

He shakes his helm. "No. Once, Ratchet was a politician."

"Huh." I say. I stand. "That's a big change, politician to medic."

Optimus stands as well, and his towering thirty-two feet make my measly fourteen feel tiny. "Ratchet has always been a compassionate soul." He says. "One day, being a politician wasn't enough for him. So he went and learned how to help bots in a different way."

I smile. "It suits him."

"Indeed." Optimus answers.

We both begin to head for the hangar door, and I speak again, posing a slightly more serious topic.

"So before we go out there and go back to pretending not to be sparkmates... Can we at least agree that you won't ignore me, and I'll resist the urge to kill you?" I ask. "It is going to be agonizing for both of us, but I think it is necesary."

He nods. "Agreed."

I smile and hold out a servo for him to shake. "To mutually agreed-upon agony then."

He takes my servo and shakes it. His returning smile is brief and genuine, and I can almost see the bot beneath the hardened warrior. Then he releases my servo and that other bot is gone. And he is Optimus Prime again.

I watch as Optimus Prime walks out the medbay doors, and out of my reach.

* * *

**This chapter... the feels... how even..?..?..?././M?,.kj ...Blerg. Ha. So tired. lemme know what you think?**

**A note about the heights of the 'bots... So Optimus is 32 feet, and Silverbolt is 14. Which makes Ironhide roughly...28 feet tall? (He's about twice her height.) Online sources say that Bumblebee is about 16 feet tall, which I agree with, and I imagine Ratchet is somewhere around 26. Prowl is 18, Jazz is 10. (He's so short. :P ) And the triplets are about 8.5/9 feet. I'm gonna have a list eventually of everybots alt- modes, and if you use your imagination, you can probably base the rest of their heights off of the numbers I've already supplied.**


	5. The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors

**Hey all, just a heads up, I changed the part in chapter 2 where Silver says what car she scans for her alt mode... I know she is still having problems transforming. But her alt mode is no longer going to be a 2011 dodge charger mopar. I've changed it to a 2011 Lamborghini Gallardo Bicolore... I think it looks more femm. **

**Yeah... So, not as many reviews as I was hoping for that last chapter... :( Sorry if it's boring, but these things are important for character and plot developement ya know! Anyway, chapter 4... or whatever chapter I'm on now... Something... Just read it, and like it. :)**

* * *

_I was running through what had once been a grassy field. Though now it was little more than a scrapyard. The bodies of humans and Cybertronians littered the ground, and the earth was stained blue and red with blood and energon._

_It seemed I was the only living thing left in this field of gore, and my sparkbeat was pounding with worry. I slowed to a walk as I approached a group of bodies. The humans I recognised as soldiers from the base, but the cybertronians... I shuddered in horror as I recognised Skids, Bulkhead, and Red-Alert._

_My spark sinks, and I continue on in a daze. Each corpse is one I recognise, and I become more and more hysterical with each one. I begin to sob. The more friends I count, the more of myself dies. And then I lose it._

_"Who did this?!" I scream into the air. "Who is responsible?!" I turn in circles, searching, but I am alone with the corpses._

_"Who did this? Where are you, you sparkless bastard?! Where -"_

_"Here." I hear a voice behind me. I whirl around to face it._

_"You!" I exclaim when I see his face._

_"Me." He says with a taunting grin. I move to arm my gun, but I feel pain. He's already blasted a hole through my spark._

_I tumble to the ground. I know I am dying. I feel like I'm falling asleep._

* * *

And then I wake up.

And I don't just wake up, I jump from my berth, arm my gun and battle visor, and knock down my shelf to use for cover. I'm cycling air quickly, and I'm still confused as to where I am. Suddenly, the door slams open, and the sillouette of a mech is standing there. I duck above the shelf, and raise my arm to fire my weapon at the intruder.

"Silverbolt, what-woah!" The voice exclams. "Silver, calm down! Put the gun away, it's just me, Sunstreaker!"

That gives me pause. "Sunstreaker?" I ask quietly. I blink a few times and finally break out of my trance-like state.

"You okay Silver?" Sunny asks me carefully as I retract my visor and stow my guns.

"Sunny?" I say again. "You're okay?" I ask.

He steps forward cautiously and gives me a questioning look. "I'm fine Silver... Are _you_ all right?" He asks.

I nod slowly, and shake off the last vestiges of shock. "I'm fine." I say roughly. I stand and shoulder my way past my best friend. "Just a stasis dream." I say. "No big deal."

"No big deal?" Sunstreaker asks. "Silverbolt, you were in full-on battle mode. You didn't even recognise me! You looked like you were ready to take down a whole Decepticon regiment!"

"Just drop it Sunny." I say as I mak my way to the mess-hall for some energon. Sidesswipe comes up behind us and falls in beside Sunstreaker.

"Hey guys." He says. "What's up?"

"Silverbolt had a nightmare." Sunstreaker replies.

I whirl around to face the golden-yellow mech. I jab a servo into his chassis. "I said drop it, Sunstreaker." I snarl.

He shuts his mouth, and averts his optics. He knows better than to provoke me when I'm like this. And especially when I use his full name. I pivot back in the opposite direction, and march furiously into the mess-hangar.

The smells of fresh energon and human breakfast food assault my processors. The human and Autobot mess-halls were placed in the same hangar to promote relations between the two species. And true to the idea, each autobot had a few humans that they greeted by name, and sometimes even sat with.

I was not one such bot. And I usually sit alone in a corner with the exception of Sunny and Sides, and occasionally Prowl and Jazz.

Even Optimus made his appearance most every morning. Though he never stayed. He simply came to get energon, chatted with this person or that, and then he was on his way. I was grateful he never stayed. It made my day infinitely easier of he wasn't in my thoughts.

I stalked over to the energon dispenser, and bots and humans alike moved to get out of my way. I filled a cube, and skulked into my usual corner.

Sides and sunny got their own energon and Sunny turned in my direction. I sent him a glare that dared him to sit with me. He wisely chose to change his course, and ended up with Red-Alert and Hound on the opposite side of the hangar. His twin followed him in confusion.

I sat stewing, and sipping my energon silently. I pondered the nightmare. Alpha Trion always told me to pay close attention to my dreams. I could remember the whole dream up to the point where I had turned to face the mech who had killed my friends. In my dream, I had known who he was, but now I could not remember his face.

I mulled over it and my optic ridges formed a deep v of worry on my faceplates.

"Something on your mind?" An unknown voice asked me.

I looked down to see a human male standing in front of me. He was wearing his military camoflage, and he seemed to have an honest dort of face. Though I had trouble reading the humans squishy facial expressions.

I answered back in the same casual tone. "Nothing much." I say to him. "I'm told I'm just very broody."

He laughs out loud. "Mind if I join you?" He asks.

I gesture at the human sized seat that was already conveniantly across from me. He sits down with his tray of human mush.

"I'm Colonel William Lennox. Partners with Ironhide." He says casually. "I would shake oyur hand, but I'd rather be intact when I go home to my wife and daughter."

I smile at him. "I'm Silverbolt. But you probably already knew that. I seem to be the topic of interest among the humans... And most of the Autobots too for that matter. But anyway, what brings you to my dark little corner of the mess-hall?"

Lennox smiles and swallows his mush-food. "I saw you fight Optimus yesterday. You've got skill. What's the old rust-bucket got you doing around here?"

I take a sip of energon. "Field medic... In training." I reply. "Ratchet sort of commandeered me."

The human nods. "Yeah, that's Ratch'. He sorta just does what he wants..." He shovels more gruel into his mouth.

"What about you?" I ask him politely. "What do you do around here?"

He swallows. A human reflex that I have found quite disgusting. "I'm commander of the NEST human field-team."

"Ah." I say. "That explains why I've never seen you before. I can't go out in the field."

He looks confused. "I thought you were training to be a field medic?" He asks.

I shuffle my cube of energon awkwardly. "Um, I'm unable to use my alt-mode. Meaning I can't transform into one of your human vehicles. For some reason Ratchet is traning me for the field despite this little flaw."

Lennox whistled. An action that seemed to indicate amazement or disbelief, I wasn't sure. This was the first time I had experienced extended interaction with a human. "That sucks." He said. "Anything Ratchet can do to fix it?"

I shrug in response. "Possibly. I'm sure he and Wheeljack are already working on it."

The human nods. "That's good. Earth is a beautiful place. It would be too bad if you didn't get to see any of it."

I finish off the last of my energon, and I see Ratchet in the hangar entry tapping his peds waiting for me. "Well Colonel Lennox, I must be off. My CMO is looking for me, and I've heard he has a habit of throwing wrenches when provoked." I stand and the human stands too.

"It was nice to meet you Silverbolt." He says. "Hey, if you don't mind. I'm running some training routines with Bumblebee and some of the newer human recruits. Your skills and your..._experience_ with the Decepticons could be really helpful. If you have the time, you should swing by this afternoon."

I laugh. "So there _were_ ulterior motives for coming to talk to me." I tease him.

"I'm not admitting anything." He says jokingly. "Actually, Bumblebee wanted to officially meet you, and I have some human friends who wanted to introduce themselves too."

"Then I'll come by the human training area around four." I say with a quick salute.

"Perfect." Lennox smiles.

I turn and deposit my empty energon cube off at the counter. Then make my way to a grumpy Ratchet. He scowls at me. "I thought I said dawn." He gripes.

"Sorry doc." I say. "I _think_ I was making friends. Though I have a hard time reading the humans..."

"You were _talking_? To a _human_?" Ratchet sounds impressed that I would make the effort to talk to anyone. And I guess he should be. I rarely talk to to anybot. Since the rec-room, I decided to give bots the space to make up their minds about me. So I'm mostly alone in my free time... Which has been most of the day up until now.

"Who was it?" He asks me.

"Colonel William Lennox." I answer. "With your permission, the Colonel has asked that I assist with some training excercizes this afternoon. I would like to be dismissed at four."

Ratchet nods. "Of course. I'm glad you're making friends and keeping busy. It is easy to sink into depression when you live as long as we do. You have to stay busy or else your mind goes to scrap. Your mental health is my concern as well."

"Right." I say. I hesitate before asking him something. "Ratchet, speaking of mental health... How often do you dream?"

The medic frowns. "Wheeljack and I have shared dreams quite ofthen due to our bond. But you and Optimus should not-"

I cut him off. "It's not that kind of dream Ratchet. I'm talking about a stasis-flux. What the humans would call a nightmare."

Comprehension blankets Ratchets face, and I think he's a bit embarassed to have shared about he and his mates sleeping habits. "Well, it could have to do with the way your frame and processor were built. And it's easy to blame everything on the Decepticons shoddy work, but stasis fluxes are so rare, and I never studied the theory behind them much. I really wouldn't worry about it too much." He says.

I sigh. Not exactly the answer i was looking for, but I don't want to make the old mech worry by persuing the topic.

We get to the medbay, and the first thing I see is the frame of a mech laid out on the medical table. First-Aid is standing nervously to one side.

"Uh, Ratchet?" I say uncertainly. "What is this?"

He smiles proudly. "It's a sparkless frame." He says.

"I can see that." I say. "What's it for?"

"An Idea I got while watching human medical dramas with Wheeljack." He says. I feel the paint nanites leave my face. When Ratchet starts acting like his mate, you've gotta wonder if the world is coming to an end.

"Oh, don't look so worried you two! The frame is for you to practice your medical procedures on until I trust you enough to bring you in on the real surgeries. Though I may make an exception for the twins." He adds darkly. "You can frag them up all you want... Now, I know that both of you have varied levels of training in different areas, but both of you were mentored under Alpha Trion, correct?"

We spend the rest of the morning, going over every minute detail of of medical experience. It's just barely noon, and I'm already itching to escape the medbay. But we finally finish talking, and Ratchet says we can do some practicing.

"I'm going to show the two of you how to repair a fractured spark chamber." He says as he moves toward the lifeless frame on the med table.

"What!" I yelp. "That's like, really advanced!" I exclaim.

Ratchet nods. "The two of you have far more experience than I anticipated. We can advance your training more quickly than I had planned. You're ready to learn this procedure." He says.

By the time four o'clock rolls around, I've done five successful procedure, and two botched ones. First-Aid on the other hand, is not as successful. Only having properly completed one procedure. Ratchet dismisses me absently and constinues instructing the miserable First-Aid.

I shrug and leave the hangar, making my way to the human training facilities. It is on the opposite side of base from the medbay, and the walk gives me a chance to observe the goings-on around me.

Humans and Autobots roam the base. In the distance, just outside of the mission control hangar, I see Optimus, Prowl, and three other bots. Since I don't recognise them, I assume they must be Jolt, Mirage and Blurr. The only three bots I have yet to meet.

I continue on my way to the human section of the base. Thankfully in the opposite direction of the recently returned bots. I'm not sure I want to handle explaining my presence to them. Best let Prowl do that. His logic is unarguable.

As I follow the road that passes between the weapons hangar and one of the barracks, I catch a glimpse of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker as they scurry around the corner of the barracks. I'm not sure what they're doing, but It's bound to be some sort of prank.

I smirk to myself, but hurry along. Best not to be anywhere near when their prank gets set off. Or even worse, when they get caught. I come level with the storage hangar, where Jazz is exiting and closing the door. He holds a datapad in his servos. Looks like he's been taking inventory.

"How's everything look?" I ask. He sighs. "That bad?"

"Lets just say Prime is not going to be happy." He grumbles. "We're worse off than we thought. Energon is only gonna last us another half year at best, we were prepared for that, but now it looks like a good portion of our extra ammo has gone stale. Which means we have ta' use up energon to make more."

"So, not good?" I say.

"Nope." He grins. "But it'll be all right. Anyway, what're you up to bot?"

"I met Colonel Lennox earlier today. He asked me to help out in training some new recruits with Bumblebee." I nod in the direction of the human training facility. "I haven't officially met the mech, so I figure, might as well. And Ratchet wants me to make friends and quit sulking around base so..."

Jazz grins. "Not a bad idea. Maybe I'll stop by to see how things are goin'. Gotta get this report to Optimus though. Plus, Jolt, Blurr and Mirage are back."

I nod. "I noticed. I'm a little aprehensive about meeting them... So, if you could... Do you think you could scope things out for me? See what they think about my being here?"

"Sure thing Silver!" Jazz exclaims. "What are friends for?" He winks an optic, and trots off in the direction I had just come from.

I chuckle quietly. Not quite sure what to think of the jovial second Lieutenant. I continue toward my destination. It's not far now. The humans train in the hangar next to storage.

As I approached the open hangar, I could hear Colonel Lennox's voice. "All right, good. That's good 'Bee."

"Thank ya, thank ya very much." I frowned in puzzlment as a short clip of Elvis played. I had grown familiar with human musical artists, even fond of a few. And though I didn't particularily love Elvis, I recognised the clip. Hearing it in this setting confused me though.

"All right." I heard Lennox say. "Lets try that again."

I rounded the corner into the hangar. "Hey there boys." I say casually, to announce my presence.

Lennox, who was standing with his back to me, addressing his men now turns at the sound of my voice.

"Ah, Silverbolt!" He exclaims, walking up to me. "Glad you could make it!" He gestures to the yellow and black mech behind him. "You've already sort-of met Bumblebee, right?"

I step forward to shake the mechs servo. "Not officially. I was half-dead the last time we saw each-other."

Bumblebee plays an audio clip through his vocaliser of laughter from a human sitcom.

"That you who keeps playing the radio?" I ask.

He nods, and claps and plays another audio clip of some applause.

"Bumblebee's vocal processors were damaged when he came to earth. He adapted by using our radio to communicate. Ratchet was mostly able to fix it, but 'Bee still prefers to use the radio." Lennox explains.

"Ah, I can relate in a way." I say. " Can't use my alt-mode. Though Ratchet is optimistic that he can fix it."

Bumblebee nods and claps me on the shoulder. Then he gestures over to the group of human soldiers that are all holding guns and other such equipment.

"He wants you to help him run asome routines." Lennox says. "You know decepticon fighting styles, so you're gonna play the 'Con. If that's all right with you. Then 'Bee will show the men how to take you down, and they have to figure out how to do it in instances where we wont necesarily have an Autobot ally with us. Make sense?"

I nod. "Well, first thing is there are a couple different ways that cons fight. There are the drones, which just go into battle to take damage for the more important cons. Then there are the heavy fighters. They have thicker armour and usually rely on blades instead of guns. And lastly, you've got speedsters. They're light armoured, light on their feet, and they handle guns better than any bot on the battlefield."

One of the soldiers speaks up. "What about seekers?" He asks. A couple of his comrades agree.

"Seekers are on a whole different level." I say darkly. "Can _you_ shoot down a plane with your teeny little guns?" I ask the soldier. He shakes his head. "Exactly." I say. "In order to take down a seeker, you have to get him on the ground, have wings of your own, or have slagging good aim. Which is why we're gonna focus on the 'Cons that we know you can take down. Leave seekers to bots who can handle 'em."

"Like you?" The same soldier asks me. "I hear even Primes only taken out a few seekers."

I cross my servos. "I've taken out my share of enemies, be they seeker or not. But more importantly, I'm ready to take out your cocky attitude if you give me any more lip soldier." I get a chuckle from the rest of the group, and I glare around at all of them. "It doesnt matter how many enemies you take out. It matters that you choose your fights. Because if you take on an enemy that you can't handle, not only do you die, but your death leaves an opening that might kill one of your brothers."

The humans shuffle uncomfortably. But I've made my point. "All right 'Bee. I'm a drone. I have no tactics, and I'm pretty much shooting at you nonstop. But I can last a long time. How do you take me down?"

'Bee and I run through mock scenarios several times, and each time, I feel that the soldiers get it more and more. It really seems to help them to watch and have an example of what to do. Soon we move on to letting the soldiers practice manouvres. It's a little strange having a small squishy being rappel from the hangar rafters and onto my shoulders to pretend to shoot me in the head, but I 'go with it' as Lennox suggests.

They already have some 'Con killing strategies, but my explanations of the different fighting styles seems to really have helped. They make a lot of progress, and despite my prior misgivings about aligning ourselves with such a fragile and short-lived race, I do beleive that they have great potential. And the company of Bumblebee is entertaining as well.

"All right boys," Lennox calls a quarter hour before the evening meal. "Hit the racks, and make for the mess hall. I hear it's hambugers tonight!" The men cheer, and disperse to change their clothing. A ritual I would have found absurd before, but now that they smelled so pungent, I was rather glad.

It's a short walk to the mess hall, because they open the doors on both ends so we don't have to walk around all the other hangars. Bee and I casually make our way in, where a few other 'Bots and humans are also getting food. I ask if he'd like to join me at my usual spot, and he agrees. I spy Jazz across the room, and he waves me over. I leave 'Bee to fill up his cube and tell him I'll be there in a sec.

"Whats up boss?" I say as I near the second Lieutenant.

"I made some casual inquiries with Jolt and Blurr and Mirage." He says quietly.

"Yeah?" I say quickly.

"Well Blurr-boy don't care either way. You put up with his chatter, and he'll love ya' for life."

"Okay." I say. "And what about the others?" I ask. Jazz frowns. "_What?_" I ask again.

"Well Jolt, she pretty much hates ya'. But she hates everybot... And Mirage, he's a nice guy, but he won't go against his mate for nothin' so, Just stay clear o' Jolt is mah advice."

I nod. "Allright, thanks Jazz. This is good to know."

"Mah pleasure, friend."

I part ways with the friendly silver mech, get a cubefull, and rejoin Bumblebee.

We chat for a while, and thankfully 'Bee uses his actual voice. I was having a hart time undertanding some of his obscure refences. We are soon Joined by Colonel Lennox and a dark-skinned man he introduces as Sergeant Epps. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker enter the hangar, but I guess Sunny still thinks I'm mad at him. 'Cause he averts his gaze and makes for the same table he sat at earlier today.

"Ah, Sam! This is Silverbolt." I hear Lennox say. And I tear my gaze away from my two best friends. "Silverbolt," Lennox says. "This is Sam Witwicky, and his wife, Carly."

I give the human a once over. He seems especially squishy compared to most of the humans I've seen. And not really extraordinary in any way. "You're the little squishy guy that saved the world?" I ask sceptically.

"Three times. No biggie though" The human says without batting an eye.

"Huh." I say, leaning back in my seat. "And how do you feel about ex-Decepticons runnin' around with your friends?" I ask casually.

Sam leans back too. "Well if said ex-'Cons were to hurt any of my friends, I might be forced to seriously mess them up, but otherwise, it's all cool."

He and I stare at each-other for a moment, and then we both bust out laughing. "I think you and I will get along just fine, Squishy."

Sam grins too. "Yeah, it's cool to finally meet you."

His wife Carly interjects. "Ratchet sent us the footage of you telling your story." She says in a cultured english accent. "We've been dying to meet you but we've been away at a confrence."

"Confrence?" I ask her curiously. "You guys work with the 'Bots then?"

"Carly is the financial advisor for the Autobots." Sam explains. "She manages their budget, and gets them what they need from the government."

"Alright. And what do you do?" I ask Sam.

Sam snorts derisively. "Well if Charlotte Mearning could make up her mind already, I _would_ be the public rep for the Autobots. It's been more than a year since Chicago, and now that the drama has died down, the people want to know what the deal is with the Autobots. Optimus is ready to go public, and he wants me to be human relations. But Mearing has always had a problem with me."

"Huh." I say. "Sounds like this Mearing woman has a wrench up her tailpipe."

Lennox and Epps bust up laughing. "Man." Lennox says. "You haven't even met the woman, and you've got her down perfectly!" Carly joins in, and even Bumblebee.

Sam looks around. "Wait, she hasn't met Mearing yet?" He looks at me with sympathetic eyes. "I am so sorry." He says.

"Why?" I say worriedly.

"Well, your an ex-'Con." Epps explains. "She's a huge stickler for liability, and safety and all that. She is gonna give you the grilling of a lifetime. And probably eat Optimus alive for not telling her about you."

"Whatever." I say casually. "How bad can one squishy human be?"

* * *

**Silverbolt is seriously underestimating the power of Mearings fury... But she shall soon learn... Or will she? She does have a temper to match, after all... Muahahaha!**

**BTW, made Jolt a femme, because there are simply not enough of them. And I liked Jolt/Mirage, but I felt like he would be into femmes. So, yeah...**


	6. My Laughter Hides my Pain

**So, I got my very first negative review the other day... Two of them actually... Constructive criticism is okay. But people being rude? Not so cool with me. And I wish people would stop anonymous reviewing. I like to be able to PM people and ask for specifics. I dont know, maybe I'm being sensitive. But The one thing these two people did BOTH mention was my characterization of the Autobots. So,**

**I'm having a CONTEST!**

**Here is the prize:**** For the winner I will write a bonus chapter on the topic of YOUR choosing. It can be another Optimus bonus chap, or it can be a chapter from the POV of any character you choose. I will NOT add your OCs. And depending on what you ask of me, I may deny it due to future plans for the plot of this story. But I will write a bonus chapter for the winner.**

**What I want from you:****PM**** me with these THREE things by the deadline listed below. Be sure to CLEARLY state that you are messaging for the contest.**

**1) ****I want your HONEST opinion about my characterization of the autobots. Is It good? Is it bad? What can be fixed? Which characters do you feel are poorly portrayed? Remember, some of my characters are written a certain way for a reason. **

**2)**** Is My OC a mary sue? If so, how can I fix her? I have a history of writing mary sues. And I had hoped with this story I might have moved past that. Also, her life may seem all hunky dory now, but shit is about to hit the fan...**

**3)**** Anything else that I can work on? And please dont say grammar. I know that I sometimes have poor grammar, and part of that is due to an atrocious habit I have, of switching between past and present tense. I do this without knowing it, and It is something that I AM working on. **

**How to win:**** Quite simply, whoever is the most helpful I will write the bonus chapter of your choice. But please, be gentle... I'm very sensitive to critcism... so say lots of good things too. Haha.**

**Deadline:**** July 25, 2014. Any Submissions after midnight on this day will not be counted.**

**And that is all... Chapter 5. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sideswipe has missed his twin dearly in their vorns apart, and maybe that is why he doesn't say anything when Sunny decides to replace all of Ratchets tools with rubber replicas, or undo all the bolts on Ultra Magnus' berth. Sideswipe has always been the more rational twin. The 'calm' twin. But even so, he watches with a silent smirk as Sunstreaker arranges a giant balloon full of paint above Ironhides berthroom door.

He simply cannot help indulging in Sunnys pranks. The joy that Sunstreaker gets from them resonate in his own spark. The absence of his twin affected him more than he realised, and sometimes, he still wonders when he's going to wake up.

"Sideswipe, help me with this. I can't quite get it." Sides steps forward to assist his twin.

Each night, Sideswipe goes to bed with his twin by his side, and each morning, he wakes up, and Sunstreaker is still there. And that's enough to calm his fears.

Sideswipe has always thought that it would just be him and Sunstreaker. But lately, he's been spending a lot of time with Bluestreak. The mech is quiet and reserved, and his companionship provides a balm to Sunstreakers brash and abrasive personality. Sides hasn't told his brother. He gets jealous easily, and Sideswipe _really_ likes spending time with Bluestreak.

"I think we've got it Sunny." Sideswipe says to his brother. "Best not to mess with it too much more, we dont want to douse ourselves in paint."

"True." Sunny answers. "You don't think he can see it from the outside?" He asks.

"I think it's perfect. Now lets get out of here before we get caught." Sides answers.

"Alright, hurry then."

But the more time he spends with Bluestreak, the more Sideswipe realises that maybe he and Sunstreaker don't need each-other in the same way they used to. They've grown while they were apart. And that's a good thing.

"Sunny, d'you think that we're too attached to each-other?" Sideswipe asks as the two sneak around the side of the barracks and toward the rec hangar where they were supposed to be helping Bulkhead lay a new concrete floor.

Sunstreaker takes a long time to consider.

"Hmmm, I think being apart has taught us a lot. And for now, its okay to be happy to be back together again, but we should remember that we are two beings even if we do share a soul. We shouldnt be afraid to make new friends and memories. Like me and Silverbolt." Sunstreaker explains. "While you and I were apart, I was hurting. And Silverbolt was hurting too. And we built a friendship out of that, and we made each-other stronger."

Sidswipe is surprised by his twins answer. Before the war, Sunny would have said that they could never be separated, and that they were strongest together.

It seemed the twins had learned how to just be 'Sideswipe' and 'Sunstreaker' Instead of 'the twins' all the time.

That scared and excited Sideswipe. "Sunny?" He asked tentatively as they stopped just outside of the rec-hangar.

"Yeah Sides'?" His brother answered casually.

"I've uh, been spending a lot of time with Bluestreak. He and I get along really well, and Its actually kinda...nice to spend time with someone other than you. Ya know? I mean, before I really isolated myself from everybot on base, because I was so focused on killing 'Cons, and waiting for you to come. But now that you're here, I have friends. I feel... I feel like how we felt when Ratch first found us, and took us back to Iacon. I feel like we have a home."

Sunstreaker smiles. "Me too Sides. I feel the same thing. But maybe we're a little more mature..."

Sideswipe laughs. "Mature, _right. _So, you're not mad that I'm friends with Bluestreak?" He asks.

"Nah." Sunny answers. "I like the mech. And I'm not too opposed to the idea of him bein' my brother in the future." The yellow twin winks at his brother.

Sideswipes faceplates heat up, and he takes in a cycle of air. "We're not, I mean. Blue wants to be more... But I don't feel right when you're all alone. We always said we'd have our bonding days together, no matter what."

"Sideswipe..." Sunstreaker starts.

"No Sunny! I'll wait. I'll be patient. Bluestreak understands. He can wait too."

Sunstreaker sends a wave of comfort and gratitude to his twin. "You're the best Sides'. You know that?"

"Of course. I got all the best qualities you know." Sideswipe smirks in return, and the two head in to the rec-hangar to help Bulkhead.

* * *

Sunstreaker is nothing without his twin. Or was. Recently, he's been rethinking who he is when he's not with Sideswipe.

He's calmer. More collected. Without his twin, he's had to learn to think before he acts. Something Sideswipe always used to do for him

He's also more serious. He still makes the occasional prank with Silverbolt, but the days of constant troublemaking are over.

Sunstreaker also likes to think he's smarter. Sides always was the brainiac. But since they've been apart, Sunny has had to learn a lot of new things in order to keep up with other bots.

"Hey Sides'? What do you think of Silverbolt?" Sunstreaker asks his twin one night as he's painting a wall in their berthroom.

Sideswipe looks up at the image of Iacons skyline that Sunny is painsakingly brushing onto the wall. "I think she's lonely. " Sideswipe says.

"Me too." Sunstreaker answers. He sets down his brush and turns to face his brother. "She's sad and lonely, and I think she's tired of waiting for her happy ending to come along."

"Not everybot gets a happy ending Sunny." Sideswipe says gently.

"I know. But she gets one. I know it. She's been waiting for so long. She just has to wait a little longer. But I'm afraid she's going to give up."

"I think this has something to do with what happened in the medbay when she first woke up after the crash." Sideswipe theorizes. "I asked Jazz, but he wouldn't tell. And 'Hide is still mad about that glitter-bomb prank back in Iacon. I couldn't ask him..."

Sunstreaker nods "It almost seemed like..." The red mech trails off.

"What?" His twin asks.

"Well, it seemed like... They... they couldn't be sparkmates, could they?" Sunny asks.

Sideswipe stands suddenly. "That's it! Sparkmates, why didnt we realise before?! " He exclaims.

"But I thought that was rare?"

"Maybe not as rare as everybot thinks... I mean, we already have three sparkmated pairs on base. Ratchet and Wheeljack. Ironhide and Chromia. And Prowl and Jazz! That's got to be it!"

"Isn't a sparkmates bond like twins? The longer they're separated, the sicker they get?" Sunstreaker asks worriedly.

Sideswipes faceplates pale as the paint nanites leave them. "Primus. _That's _why Silver is so out of it... She's getting sick."

Sunstreaker frowns. "But shouldn't Op' be sick too?"

"No." Sideswipe answers. "He's got the matrix of leadership... Its positive energy is probably masking any side effects he might be feeling..."

"Huh." Sunstreaker snorts. "Well the only reason I don't go over and kick Op's aft for being such a pit-spawned glitch-headed pain in the tailpipe, is because I actually understand why he's doing this to her..."

Sideswipe nods in agreement "I feel the same way. I don't agree with his methods. But I understand. And at least it's good that Silverbolt has such a good friend to support her." He replies with a wink at sunstreaker.

"I know, when did I go from cold-blooded 'Con killer, to worried girlfriend?" Sunstreaker asks jokingly.

"You _have_ gotten soft." Sideswipe retorts cockily.

Sunstreaker tackles his brother, and they wrestle around a bit before someone in the berthroom above them stomps on the floor, and yells at them to shut up and let everybot get some recharge already.

The twins chuckle at each-other, but listen to their irate neighbor and settle into their berths for the night. Recharge comes quick and easy, and the base is finally quiet.

* * *

I sneak out of my berthroom after Sunny and Sides have finally gont to sleep, and I sidle down the hallway toward the hangar doors.

Once I'm out in the open air, I relax a little. Lately it's been harder and harder to get any recharge at all. And I've taken to walking alone at night to take my mind off the visions that plague me when I close my optics.

Its always the same thing. All my friends dead, blood and energon everywhere. The mystery mech, whom I seem to know, but whos face I can never remember.

That's the least of my problems though. In training with Ratchet, we discovered that half of my sensory equipment needs to be replaced. It's severely limiting the procedures that the CMO is able to teach me, and to top it off, there still isn't much progress on the repair plans for my alt-mode.

So I can't do my job. Can't even _learn_ to do my job, because my frame is too messed up.

And to add to it all, Ive been doing terribly in training. My win against Prowl and the others seems to have been a fluke. Because since then, I haven't won _once_. Against Prowl, it's understandable. His processors are equipped to rewrite strategies. So I was only going to be able to outsmart him once.

But I've been losing against Sunny and Sides, and even Bluestreak. _Bluestreak,_ who never puts his whole heart into a fight, and he's beaten me _three_ times this week alone!

I'm starting to wonder why I'm here. I'm obviously no use to anyone. And even my training seems to be making me worse, not better.

Even worse, are things with Optimus. Now that we are no longer ignoring each-other, seeing him just hurts even more. Talking to him makes me want to purge my tanks, and just looking at him causes my helm to ache for joors.

Ratchet says it's a side effect of being around each-other, but not being bonded. He says sparkmates who aren't bonded can become unstable, their sparks become weak trying to connect with each-other.

He says eventually it will kill us. He doesn't say how far off _eventually _is.

I've wandered south to the beach, and I stand in hte sand and stare at the waves as they roll in and out. A beautiful full moon reflects off the ocean, but to my Optics it is lackluster.

The only thing I look forward to these days, are my weekly check-ups with Ratchet. Because he puts me in stasis lock, and I get to feel nothing for a few hours. That's sad, but it's my reality. I was so happy when I first came here. So excited to finally have freedom, and a chance to redeem myself. I chance to wipe my slate clean.

And now I'm just miserable.

I'm useless, and a waste of space. None of the bots but Jolt dare to say it to my faceplates, but they all think it. And I would leave, but the humans won't allow it. Not until I can properly disguise myself. And who knows how long until that issue can be fixed.

Another glitch in my system.

It starts to rain, and I know I should move. I should go back inside before I rust, but I don't. Maybe if I stand here long enough I will rust solid into a statue, and then nobot will have to be bothered with me.

I don't know how long I stand in the torrential downpour, but I think the horizon has begun to lighten. So I finally force myself to move, and return to the barracks.

Hopefully I've wasted enough time, and I can spend the last few joors before dawn free of my gruesome visions.

My hope is in vain though, as I bolt upright in the morn' with my visor down, and my weapons armed. A cry of dismay barely contained within my vocalizer. I stow my weapons, and ready myself for another day of pretending that I'm not slowly losing my sanity.

I exit my berthroom, and head for the mess-hall for some much-needed energon.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker casually observe their best friend as she sets down her energon cube and slides into the seat across from them.

:_She's worse today._: Sunstreaker comms to his brother.

:_Yeah._: Sides answers.

:_What can we do?_: Sunstreaker asks worriedly.

:_We're just going to have to be here for her..._: Sideswipe answers. :_Be the support that she needs. And I think we'd better report to Ratchet. He'll want to know the state that she's in. Knowing her, she's probably hiding it from him._:

:_I wish we weren't at war. Then Optimus could just be a normal mech and bond with Silver and he wouldn't have to get all noble and self sacrificy and leave Silver in this state..._:

:_He's probably wishing the same thing bro'._:

"Are you boys done gossiping like old nursebots?" Silverbolt asks the twins, and they look up at her faceplates to see the painfully obvious fake smile that is plastered there. But they grin at her and act like nothing is wrong, and they banter through breakfast before going their seperate ways for the day.

Sunny and Sideswipe just pray to Primus that good news is on the horizon. Something to change Silverbolts fortune.


	7. Repeat

**Sooo, chapter five be here! Sooo sorry I didnt update earlier. I said I would post and announce contest winners on the 26th. My apologies. I'm now working two jobs, and it's a lot for me to keep up with. I've given my two weeks notice to one job. So hopefully I'll be better able to keep up after I quit there.**

**As Promised, I'm announcing the winner of my contest. I only had three people enter, and they all gave me pointers and tips that were EXTREMELY helpful. But there can be only one winner... And that person is... Arbiter Prime! YAY! thank you so much for your helpful comments and insight! The next bonus chapter will be dedicated to the winner! And once again thank you to everyone who entered! **

**Now, On to the chapter!**

* * *

The days grow monotonous and boring. And Ironhide grows more and more impatient as I seem to get worse and worse in combat training. My medical training is at a standstill since Ratchet discovered that my medical scanners need to be repaired and replaced, and I'm still unable to use my alt-mode to go on field missions.

I'm currently fighting Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and I'm getting my aft handed to me. It seems my fights against Prowl, Jazz and Bluestreak last week were some sort of fluke, because I haven't won a single match since.

My decrease in performance can easily be marked by the profanity of Ironhides Insults. His curses have even Skids and Mudflap flinching... I'm that awful...

So every day, my routine goes something like this:

Wake up from terrifying nightmare of all my friends being slaughtered. Tidy up my room because I have destroyed it in the process of waking up. Go to mess-hall feeling pissy and out of sorts. Ignore everyone and sit in my corner as usual. I am joined occasionally by Colonel Lennox, or Sam and Carly when they are on base. Then I report to Ratchet to practice procedures that don't require medical scanners. (That's not very many.) Afterward, I am dismissed by my CMO to report for combat training where I am verbally abused for hours on end by an extremely grumpy weapons specialist.

Next, I spend midday break exploring Diego Garcia alone. Then I report to gym where Bumblebee and I run routines with NEST soldiers. Lennox always greets me and finds something for me to do. Though he doesn't really need my help anymore.

In the evenings I return to mess-hall for evening energon ration. Talk to Sunny and Sides about their latest missions, and mope about the base for the next few hours with nothing to do. After that, I return to barracks like everybot else, pretend to recharge, then wait until everybot is in stasis and sneak out of barracks.

I occupy myself by further exploring the island, or organising the medbay. All in an effort to avoid recharge and the nightmares that come with it. I return to barracks just before dawn, and try not to fall into recharge. Fall into recharge anyway, awaken in a blind panic, and repeat the previous list.

That is my life. Day in and day out. I go through this monotonous routine. I am useless, a waste of space and energon.

So here I am again today, being insulted by Ironhide. Who, as always. Is dissapointed with my progress. Sunny and Sides take me out in a few short moves, and Ironhides finally decides he's had enough for the day.

"You're done femme." He says gruffly without looking in my direction. "Ratchet just commed anyway. He wants you back in the medbay."

I nod. "Yes sir." I say with a quick salute. I turn and jog quickly over to the medbay, and slide the door open. Ratchet and Wheeljack are inside, as well as First-Aid.

"What's up doc?" I ask Ratchet. He glares at my greeting.

"Silverbolt, take a seat." He says. Gesturing to the berth in front of him.

I frown, but say nothing and do as he says.

"Silverbolt." He starts. "As you know. Wheeljack, First-Aid and myself have been working on a method to repair your frame so that you may access its full function."

"Yes." I say nervously. This doesn't sound good. What if the procedure is going to be extremely painful? What if it is one where I am required to be concious?

"It seems... That we are unable to perform the procedure required to repair your frame." Ratchet explains.

My spark stops, and my next words catch in my throat. Ratchet continues to speak, and I listen in mute horror.

"I have tried, and tried to figure out a way to fix your frame femme. But the truth is that you need your entire protoform reformatted. I'm a medic. I can only repair protoform, not reshape it."

"What does that mean?" I ask quietly. Though I already know the answer.

"There is nothing to be done about your predicament. You will have to remain as you are. Improper function and all. Until we can find a different way to fix you, or a bot lands on earth who has the necesary skills." The medic intones gently.

I rise from my seat. "So be it." I say roughly.

"Silverbolt," First-Aid says. But I am already out the hangar door. I turn right, and head east for the beach path. I move quickly. It will be midday break soon, and everybot will be out and about in just a moment. I pass the lab, and the office hangars, and come level with Optimus' hangar.

His door is open to the stifling summer heat, and I catch a glimpse of him stooped over his desk, several datapads on hand. I hurry past as a familiar pang makes my spark ache and my tanks churn. I continue past mission control where Prowl and Ultra Magnus are overseeing the wreckers and on a 'Con-hunting mission in Spain.

Ultra Magnus nods at me, and I salute the leader of the wreckers weakly before continuing on. If bots could cry like humans, I expect that's what I would be doing. Instead, my cooling system hitches, and I struggle not to collapse on the ground and just give up.

No matter how much I want to. I'm still holding on to that sliver of hope that Alpha Trion gave me so long ago. He told me there would be great joy in my future. So I'm still holding out for that. No matter how much anguish I might feel.

I continue past mission control, and the empty hangar beside that, and then turn right onto the path between the last hangar and the flight tower that leads to the beach. I nearly run into somebot, and put out a servo to steady them.

"Dont touch me, scum!" Jolt hisses at me. I freeze, and slowly retract my outstretched arm. I examine the femme in front of me. Typically reserved and withdrawn, Jolt seems to come out of her shell especially for the sake of letting me know just how much she hates me.

I say nothing, and she takes her cue to continue bashing me. "Why are you even here, freak? You're nothing, a useless waste of energon. You dont contribute. The decepticons fragged you up, and now you come running to us. But you have no place here. Just get out!"

She straigtens up, and storms off, and I stare after her a little confused. She has made her dislike for me quite clear, but she seems especially pissy today.

"Dont listen to Jolt, femme." I hear a voice from behind me. I whirl around to see jolts mate, Mirage.

"Well I can't really really help it." I say with a forced laugh. "She's quite loud."

Mirage chuckles. "That she is. Although, she's just mad 'cause I told her I wasn't in the mood for some interface."

My faceplates heat up, and I glance away. "Even so, everything she said about me being useless is true."

"Yes it is." He says, and I wince. "But that doesn't matter."

"What do you mean?" I turn to look at him. "Of course it matters."

"No," He says. "it doesn't. Because you have the power to change that."

"But my frame is messed up, that's what's causing all these issues-" Mirage cuts me off.

"Don't focus on the things that are out of your control. You can't fix your frame, and that's not liable to change any time soon. Right?" I nod. "So focus on what you _can_ do..."

"I can train more with Ironhide..." I say timidly.

"Great." He says. "But that's only going to get you so far. What else can you do? Something that will be productive and helpful for everybot on base, not just yourself."

"Uh..." I stutter.

"You worked for Shockwave right?" He asks me.

"Yeah." I mutter.

"So you're a scientist. I hear Wheeljack is searching for a reliable way to produce energon... I bet if you volunteered your help, he'd be really grateful. Two helms are better than one... Just some 'food for thought' as the humans say."

With that, Mirage saunters off. Probably to go placate his mate. I smile grimly to myself. He's right. I'm focusing on things that are out of my control.

I turn and continue down the beach path. I had thought that once I joined the Autobots, my path would be clear. That I would know who I was and what I was meant to do. Instead, my path is more clouded than ever. I kick lazily at a dune of sand, and the golden particles of glass and dirt go flying twenty feet into the air.

The dry sand slithers under my peds as I walk, and I continue forward until I reach wet sand. The tide is out, and only small pools of water remain. I walk over and crouch in front of one of these 'tidepools', and gaze breifly at my reflection before looking deeper into the water.

Small creatures scuttle about, and sea-plants float in the still pools. The perfect little ecosystem. When the tide goes out, they survive. But When the tide comes back in is when they really thrive. The same goes for us bots and the war.

We've been a part of it for so long. Most of us are too young to remember much before the war. Myself included. But I do know one thing. The tide is only out right now. Here on Diego Garcia we're sitting safe in our little tidepool. But so are the enemy, wherever they are. And when the tide comes in...

I tear my gaze away from the bottom of this little puddle, and back to its surface where my reflection lingers mockingly. I'd rather not look at myself. I get why some of the bots are still wary of me. I _look_ like a Decepticon.

My slate grey armour is all sharp curves and abrupt edges. It's a very popular look among Deceptiocns that makes them qute easy to distinguish. My helm has three sharp ridges that swoop back from the middle of the brow, and the armour protecting my jawline resembles the mandibles of some beast or insect. The only redeeming thing about my faceplates is my blue optics. And that's only because Shockwave ran out of red ones when building my frame...Lucky me.

My shoulder armour has the same sharp ridges as my helm, and my upper arms are wrapped in a simple ovular peice of armour with a blade-sharp triangle of metal protruding from the back. My elbow has another sharp spike, and my forearms taper gently into my narrow wrists. A handguard protects my servos, but otherwise the armour on my forearms remains plain in order to allow for better access to my weapons stored there.

My chestplate is simple. A two-peice assemblage that hinges at my shoulders for better movement. It is short and smooth in the front and ends just below where all my vital equipment is located. And longer in the back in order to protect my spinal struts. Several vents for my cooling system rest in between my doorwings. Which are attached just behind and between my shoulders and main backstrut.

My abdominal armour is thinner and smoother, and the layout of the plating slightly resembles human abdominal muscles. My armour gaps breifly where my legs meet my hips, and picks up again on my upper legs. The armour on my legs is less showy, but my knee-joints sport lethal spikes for gutting my opponents with a well-placed kick.

My lower legs have the same ridges as my helm and shoulders, and my heels sport two sharp spurs. My peds have two clawed 'toes', and my fingers are all tipped in deadly claws. Instead of the normal blunt-tipped servos that are natural.

I never cared before what I looked like, but now I wish I could look more like a femme. My armour is curved and sleek and I suppose I look somewhat femm. But it's also sharp and lethal, and I look more like a 'Con. The other femmes, Jolt and Chromia and Arcee are all sleek and smooth and shiny. And they can look pretty and deadly all at once. I just look harsh and cruel. I look like evrything that I hate.

If I could use my transformation aspect, I would be able to customize my armour to look however I wanted it to. But for now I'm stuck.

I stand from my crouch, and turn to gaze at the distant waves.

:_Silverbolt!_: Somebot comms me, bringing me out of my reverie. :_We need you at the lab now!_: It's Jazz and he sounds almost crazed. :_There's been an accident. Op volunteered to test out Wheeljacks groundbridge experiment, and Doc Hatchet and First-Aid were on standby when the whole thing exploded. Op is hurt bad and Jackie, Ratch and Aid were all knocked out by the blast. Yah're the only medic on base. Where the slag're yah at?!_:

:_At the beach._: I say. :_I'm on my way_:

It's in this moment that I truly curse the fact that I cannot transform. If I could, I would have made it to the lab in moments. Instead, it takes me five minutes to get to the scene.

When I reach landing strip, I begin to sprint even harder. Fear clenches its iron fist around my spark.

I can see several figures lying about the concrete outside of the smoking remains of the lab hangar. Wheeljack is kneeling beside Ratchet, who is laying motionless on the tarmac. First-Aid id a few meters away from him, also unmoving. Jolt and Mirage are standing worriedly behind Prowl, as is Jazz. And Sunny, Sides and 'Bee are jogging hurriedly toward the scene. Other bots and humans are quickly assembling on site.

But worst of all is Optimus, lying on the ground. Prowl is at his side, and I skid to a stop beside the Prime and his first lieutenant.

"How is he?" I ask quickly as I kneel by Optimus' side across from Prowl.

"When the machine exploded lots of shrapnel went flying." Prowl explains quickly. I begin to examine Optimus. "Ratchet Wheeljack and First-Aid were spared because they were all standing off to the side. But Optimus was standing right in front of it. He has multiple large fragments of shrapnel embedded in his chassis. And he's gone into stasis lock."

I growl as I examine the Primes wounds. I cannot tell the severity of the damage because my scanners do not function. I could have Prowl scan for me, but he wouldn't know what to scan for, and then it wouldn't be as precise to have him describe the wounds to me. I'll have to manually examine the wounds, and then make diagnostics based on what I can see and feel. Which isn't much, because his armour is dented and torn, and there is energon pooling on his chassis and obscuring my visual of the wounds.

"Water!" I bark at Jolt, who happens to be the closest on hand. "I need to wash the energon off." She opens her mouth to say something. "NOW!" I yell at her. She sprints off, and I turn to Prowl. "Has anybot here linked with him before?" I ask. "I need somebot to enter his mind and wake him up for me."

"I could I suppose..." Prowl Mutters. "He and I have linked before to share some memories, but it would be most logical for you to enter his mind and wake him. As his sparkmate, your presence will have the most soothing effect on his processors and-"

"It would be most logical..." I say in a low voice. "To _not_ send your only functioning medic into the mind of a Prime who has just been inflicted with extreme frame damage. It would be _most_ logical to send someone who is familiar with his processors, but also familiar with dealing with a wounded mech who is likely in combat mode."

Prowl nods. "Understood." He then opens a panel on the left side of his chassis, and unreels a corticle patch cord.

Jazz puts a servo on his mates shoulder. "Be careful, Prowler. A wounded mech is much like a wounded cybercat. Don't corner him."

"I'm always careful, sparklove." Prowl pats Jazz' servo reassuringly. Then he plugs the cord into the port just behind Optimus' audio receptor, and his frame goes slack and his optics darken.

Jolt returns with large fifteen gallon tank of water in her arms. "Pour some over his chassis." I tell her.

She growls at me. "Don't order me you f-"

"Do it. Now." I rumble in a voice that allows for no argument.

She pours some water over his chest, and the bright blue energon sluices off him and onto the ground. I wince as I behold the jagged peices of metal the protrude from Optimus' chassis. I begin to probe the holes with my servos. Some of the obviously smaller peices come out with just a little coaxing. While I stay far away from the larger ones. Best not to mess with those until I know if they're affecting anything vital.

As I work, I continue to have Jolt pour water over the wounds in order to wash off the steadily leaking energon. "Someone fetch me six cubes of med-grade, and some jumper cables." I toss over to the small group of bots standing near Ratchet. "Wheeljack, hows old 'hatchet doing?" I ask the distraught inventor as Sunstreaker sprints into the medbay to get the supplies I asked for.

"Stable." He says with hardly a glance in my direction. "He isn't wounded, the blast just knocked his processors around a bit..." He trails off as he stares at the unmoving form of his mate.

"Alright." I say quickly. "Well that's good. You think you can check on First-Aid for me?" I ask him gently. "Prowl said only Op was hurt. But I just want to be sure." Wheeljack glances morosely at his mate, but he stands determinedly and moves over to First-Aids side.

Sunny returns with an armful of energon cubes, but no jumper cables. "Couldn't find the cables Silver." He says as he deposits the cubes at my side. "I'll go back and look for them."

"No." I say. "Take over for Jolt. Keep his wounds clean. Jazz, get Prowl out of there, he's taking too long." Jazz nods and closes his optics to communicate with his mate. A moment later Prowl opens his own optics, and I signal everybot to stand back.

"Jolt, I need you to shock him." I say quietly.

"These aren't medical tools." She sputters. "My electro-whips are weapons, meant to kill-"

"So start it on the lowest setting, and move up until he wakes up!" I shout at her. "Because if he dies, I'll fragging kill him! Now do it!"

She charges up a whip, and strikes him in the chest. I grab a cube of med-grade, and begin to chug. Prowl glances at me. "What are you doing Silverbolt?" He asks.

I open up my own chassis and pull out my central energon line. "First-Aid broke the energon transfusion machine yesterday. I'll have to perform a direct transfusion. But he needs med-grade." I cut my energon line, and pinch the ends shut. Then I activate Optimus' chestplates. His chassis opens slightly with a hiss, and I see the bright glow of his spark chamber. Obscured by the matrix of leadership that hovers just inside the cavity of his torso.

His chestplates won't open all the way, due to the shrapnel, but I've gotten enough of the stuff out to get it to open this far, and I can peer inside his chest to see that none of the larger peices of shrapnel seem to have pierced anything vitally important. I grab another cube of med-grade, and chug that too.

I reach inside him, and pull out his own central energon line, being very careful not to touch his spark. I cut the line, and begin to splice our lines together. With that done, I reach for another cube of med-grade. But Prowl stops me.

"Silverbolt, I'm no medic, but that much med-grade could kill you." He states.

I shake his servo off, and grab the cube. "If it kills me but saves him, then I am more than happy to die." I say fiercly. "Better a decepticon cast-off dies, than the last Prime."

"Is that really why femme?" Mirage asks from where he still stands behind Prowl. "Or is it because he is your sparkmate?"

Several bots gasp, as do the humans who understand what that means. I glare at him and down the third cube of med-grade. "Jolt." I say. "Shock him again."

The dark blue femme does as I order. She charges up her whips, and gives the Prime a good long shock. His whole frame shudders, and he bolts upright with a roar. I stand with him to keep our energon lines from tearing apart, and he looks to me with clouded optics.

He obviously doesn't know where he is, and moves as if to grab me. I don't blame him, I probably look like some feral 'Con standing over him, going in for the kill. But the damage to his frame prevents him from raising his arms. Or remaining upright for that matter. He crashes back to the ground with a groan. His optics clear, and he looks at Prowl.

"What, happened?" He asks weakly. He lifts his helm to look down at the damage to his chassis, and at the energon line dangling out of his chest, attached to mine. He follows the wire upwards, and meets my gaze as I glance at him breifly. But I ignore him, and continue to work.

"There's been an accident, Prime." Prowl explains. "The groundbridge machine exploded and you caught the brunt of the blast. Ratchet and First-Aid were knocked out, and Silverbolt has been attending your wounds."

I glance at Optimus again, breifly. "I need you to do a self diagnostic to make sure that none of the shrapnel will damage you further when I remove it. Sunstreaker, a little more water please." Sunny steps forward and spills a small amount of water to wash away the still leaking energon. Optimus flinches as the cold liquid comes in contact with his spark.

"Thank you." I say. "Optimus, what is your status?" I ask the Prime.

"I am low on energon, and the shrapnel has damaged the hydraulics in my shoulder joints. But removal of the remaining peices of shrapnel should not further damage my frame."

"Good." I say curtly. I begin to work on the larger peices of shrapnel in his chassis. I pause only a moment to grab another cube of med-grade. I hold it out to Optimus. "Here." I say. "Drink."

He tries to raise his arm, but cannot keep it up for more than a moment. I set down the energon cube, and move to tend to his shoulder. I pry a long thin peice of debris from his shoulder that was blocking the joint from rotating properly.

I quickly solder the tears in the metal. Then pick up the energon cube and hand it to him. "Try now." I say with a grim smile.

He takes the cube from my servos and raises it to his faceplates, I turn back to his chassis and continue my work. I work quickly and efficiently just as Ratchet taught me, and soon I am able to detatch the energon lines and put everything back where it belongs.

Optimus is soon sitting up, and I put away my tools and stand. "Get him to medbay." I say to Prowl. Then I turn to Optimus himself. "Get some rest. Let me know if your condition changes. I trust you can diagnose yourself accurately and refrain from exaggeration. I'll come and finish work on you once I'm sure Ratchet is functioning. In the meantime get some more energon in you. Your frame needs more than just the four cubes I got into you."

I turn and trot over to kneel by the old medic. Wheeljack comes back to kneel by his mates side as well as the now-concious First-Aid. "How ya doing, mech?" I ask my fellow apprentice.

"I'm all right... Is Ratchet okay?" He asks in his usual quiet manner.

Wheeljack looks desperately to me, and I turn my attention to the yellow mech lying prone on the ground. "Aid, do a quick scan of processor activity. Tell me what you find. I'll do a manual exam." I search over Ratchets frame, and find nothing out of the ordinary. "First-Aid, what have you got?"

"Scans show that he's..." The timid medic pauses. "He's asleep. A deep recharge that the energy of the blast must have somehow triggered. It did the same to me..."

I look up to Wheeljack. "How did you wake First-Aid?" I ask. "We can wake Ratchet in the same way."

Wheeljack looks helplessly at me. "He 'jes woke up hisself. I had naught tae do with it lass." First-Aid nods in agreement. I look back to wheeljack.

"Have you tried connecting with him through your mates bond?" I ask.

Wheeljack nods. "It dinnae work. He's too deeply asleep."

I sigh as I look back down at Ratchet. "Well did you try uhhh..." I trail off in embarassment. "Did you try interfacing?" I ask quickly.

"Interfacing?!" Wheeljack sputters. "Are ye mad lass?! What good would that do?"

"Uh, well the ah...Intense sensation could possibly wake him from stasis. Or at least wake him enough that you should be able to reach him with your bond... I know it's uncomfortable but medical interface is not unprecedented, and I'd like to wake him as soon as possible b-"

"There'll be no...interfacing... here." A familiar gravelly voice interrupts me.

"Ratchet!" I exclaim as the old medics optics come online and he tries to sit up. He looks around and sees Prowl helping Optimus to his peds.

"I see you've taken care of things while I've been... preoccupied." Ratchet says slowly.

"How are you feeling?" I ask him, ignoring his remark. "Any irregularities? Everything is functioning correctly?"

"Yes, yes." He says, waving me away. Wheeljack helps him to his peds.

"Ratchet I want you and First-Aid in the medbay until I say otherwise. I need to finish patching Optimus up, and then I want to run a few diagnostic tests on the two of you to ensure that you are functioning at one hundered percent capacity." Ratchet opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. "No arguments. You are the patient today Ratchet and I won't hear any of your lip."

He snorts, but otherwise he listens and lets Wheeljack guide him into the medbay. Once inside, I have Ratchet and First-Aid both run diagnostics on themselves, and then command them both to get a dose of standard-grade energon while I work on Optimus.

I solder and patch the many holes in the Primes armour, and wonder how he's in this great of shape when he has so many holes in him.

"It is because of the matrix of leadership." Optimus says, answering the question that I apparently asked out loud. "It lends me greater strength."

"Ah." I say quietly. I finish up with the last few tears in his armour, and turn to see First-Aid curled up like a sparkling on one of the medical berths. Ratchet and Wheeljack are staring into each-others optics, and murmuring to each-other in cybertronian, and I decide that it's best to leave them all as they are.

Lucky me, Ultra Magnus chooses this moment to enter the medbay and report to Op.

"Prime." He says as he strides toward us. "You are good I presume? I hear Silverbolt handled things exceptionally well."

"Indeed she did, my friend." Optimus replies. "What do you have to report?"

Ultra Magnus stands at ease, and begins ro recite his report. "The wreckers mission to Spain was a success. They terminated all Decepticons in the area. And we have discovered why they were gathering there in the first place."

Optimus gestures for the sky-blue mech to continue. "It seems they intercepted a signal from an autobot ship several months ago. The ships trajectory had it set to land in Spain. And it has done so just moments ago. Our team has verifies that the bots aboard are indeed Autobots, and I have ordered leadfoot to join these new bots on their ship and guide them here to base while the other wreckers return home via the airplane they took there."

"Very good. Thank you Ultra Magnus. Tell me, do you know who is aboard the ship?"

Ultra Magnus shakes his helm. "Negative. I only know that there are four bots aboard, and that their highest ranking bot is a medic named Hoist. He leads and speaks for the group. I will find out more at once sir."

Optimus nods in dismissal, and Ultra Magnus does a sharp about face and exits the med hangar.

"Hoist?" Ratchet asks in disbelief, and Both Prime and I turn to look at him.

"You know him, old friend?" Optimus asks Ratchet.

"Not personally, no. But I know of him. Back on Cybertron he was a cosmetic surgeon. He specialised in reformatting protoform." Ratchet turns to look directly into my optics. "He can help me repair your frame, femme."

I have the stupidest grin on my faceplates right now.

"Really?" I ask Ratchet.

"Truly." He says.

* * *

**D'aww. Yayyy! Things are finally looking up for Silver! Plus she was kinda badass handling that emergency... Everybot has got to be impressesed with her now! But now everybody is gonna know that she and Op are sparkmates because mirage has a big mouth... Or maybe he did it on purpose? Who can say with Mirage...Anyway, wats gonna happen? And who are the mystery bots aboard this Autobot transport?! dun Dun DUNNNNN! Such suspenseful suspense!**


	8. Rivalry and Revelry

**Awesome chapter is awesome... Just saying. Oh, and I named all the chapters... soooo yeah. Felt like it was too confusing to have chapter two and then bonus chapter two and all that... so Im naming all the chapters from now on...**

**Anyway, this is where the drama gets real. Several familiar faces appear, and things take a turn for the better! Or do they? Next chapter will be the bonus chapter for Arbiter Prime, guaranteed to be lots of fun. :) Anyway, enjoy!**

As soon as I finish patching up Optimus and Ratchet, I retire to my room for the evening. The chaotic events of today have dragged on well into the evening, and I'm done in.

I collapse on my berth, and flop onto my back. I grin stupidly at the ceiling. This Hoist fellow can fix my frame! I'll finally be able to get off base and get away from Optimus, and... My thoughts which had previously been travelling at a thousand miles a minute, suddenly stopped.

Optimus... Primus, I didn't even realise how worried I had been. How worried I still was. When I had been running toward the accident, and I'd seen Optimus just lying there... Why do I have to care so fragging much? Now I'm doubly glad my frame is going to be repaired soon. I need to get the pit off this base and away from Optimus.

There is a light tap on my door, and then it slides open to reveal Sideswipe. He steps inside my room, followed by Sunny, who is clutching several cubes of energon.

"We thought you might have forgotten to get some energon for yourself in all the confusion." Sides says.

I sit up straight, and accept a cube of energon from Sunstreaker. "Thanks guys." I say gratefully.

I proceed to tell my friends about the autobot transport that is due to arrive early next morning, and it is with even greater excitement that I tell them about the medic Hoist who is on board.

We laugh and joke around a bit more, and eventually just end up having an imprompteau sleepover. The next morning, the twins and I reluctantly rise from our recharge, and exit the barracks.

"Are you fragging kidding me Sides!" I exclaim loudly as the twins and I make our way to mess for our morning ration of energon. Not that I'm really interested in energon at the moment... The ship with the new bots is set to arrive at practically any time, and I am anxious to greet the newest members of our team. Hoist especially.

"Shhh! Not so loud silver!" Sideswipe complains.

"Well you can't expect me to keep quiet after you spring news like that on me!" I say in only a slightly quieter voice. "You and Bluestreak are really an Item?" I inquire amusedly.

His cooling systems kick in and I laugh aloud. That's all the answer I need.

"Sides is being dumb though." Sunstreaker interjects.

"Sunny it's not unreasonable fore me to-" Sideswipe begins, but his brother cuts him off.

"It _is_ dumb." He barks. "Silverbolt, do _you_ think it's dumb for Sides to refuse to commit to Bluestreak until I find a mate too?"

"Uhhhh..." I say. "Well I think it's very considerate of your brother." I tell Sunstreaker diplomatically.

"Ugh Silver, not helping..." Sunny groans.

"Well I don't want to get in the middle of something between the two of you!" I exclaim.

"Oh yeah?" Sunny asks teasingly. "Would you rather talk about you and Optimus?" He asks. I glare.

"Stupid Mirage and his loud mouth..." I grumble under my breath as I sip my energon.

I feel an increase in air pressure, and hear the whoosh of air and several excited shouts . The ship is here!

Sunny, Sides and I all look at each-other before we simultaneously bolt for the hangar door. I look up at the sky as I clear the mess-hall doorway. The arriving shuttle is small. Smaller than the ship that I arrived on. The ship extends its landing gear and touches down on the asphalt. I hop forward excitedly, and move to stand next to Jazz and prowl who are ready to greet our comrades.

I'm so excited, that I don't care that I just stole Optimus' spot, and he is now forced to stand beside me. For once his presence doesn't bother me. Though thouroughly excited, I take care to remain calm and professional. I clasp my servos behind my back and stand in an at ease position.

Out of the corner of my optic, I think I see Optimus look at me and smile. Does he sense my anticipation? He must, he seems to find something about me amusing. Typically this behavior might bother me, but today nothing can bring my mood down.

The ships ramp slowly descends to the ground with a hiss of hydraulics, and Leadfoot strides down the ramp. Next, comes an old mech with dark green and orange armour and a limp in his step. Ratchet moves to greet him.

"Autobot Hoist, is it?" Ratchet asks.

"Who's askin'?" He grunts cheerfully.

"Chief medical officer, Ratchet." My mentor replies. "I look forward to working with you mech."

"Likewise." Hoist says with a quick salute.

"Medic Hoist," Optimus greets the newcomer. "Welcome to the team, and welcome to Earth."

"Thank you Optimus sir." Hoist says. he turns back to the ship just as another mech disembarks the vessel. This mech is clearly younger and has a blue-on-white paintjob.

"Smokescreen!" Prowl exclaims in genuine pleasure. He moves forward to greet the bot.

"Prowly-poo!" The young mech returns the greeting, and I struggle not to burst out laughing. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker have no such luck containing their amusement as hysterical echoes of _'what the frag_?' and _'prowly-poo!'_ can be heard from them.

"How you doin' brother? Jazz keeping you in line?" The new mech, Smokescreen asks playfully.

"More like the other way around." Jazz says as he too steps up to greet Prowls enthusiastic brother. "how are yah Smokescreen?" He asks, and they shake servos.

"Never better!" He exclaims. "It's great to see you two!"

"Welcome Smokescreen." Ratchet says. "It's good to see you again." Smokescreen nods at the medic.

"Indeed." Optimus agrees. "Well met, warrior."

"Good to see you again Prime. As always, it's a huge honor-"

"SUNSTREAKER!" An extremely loud voice breaks through the previous conversation.

"Oh slag!" Sunny says from behind me, he ducks behind my shoulders, trying to hide.

"What?" I ask bemusedly.

"It's Metalloper, hide me!" He exclaims.

"Metallooper?" I ask. "That femme you used to see?" I say.

"Something like that..." Sideswipe answers for his twin.

"SUNSTREAKER!" The voice shrieks again, and I see the small silver femme who is approaching us at a clipped pace, her faceplates set into a furious scowl.

"Better go say hi, Sunny!" I say. I elbow him playfully, and then shove him in the direction of the advancing femme.

"Silver, no! What are you do-ing..." Sunny's protests slow to a halt as he comes face to face with the small silver femme before him. "Uh, hey Metallooper..." He says almost timidly, and I have to try quite hard not to laugh.

As the new femme begins to launch into a ranting tirade at Sunstreaker, I move past Optimus and over to Ratchet who introduces me to Hoist. Neither of us say anything about repairing my frame, but my excitement at meething the mech who can help me is tangible.

"Blast it all." Hoist says grumpily. "Where is that femme? Slag it, she's probably off in some corner prettying herself up for the Prime. He'll be quite glad to see her, I'm sure of it." The medic says.

"You don't mean...?" Ratchet asks, quickly glancing in my direction. "Elita-1 is _here_?" He exclaims.

"Sure she is." Hoist grins as if this is the best news in the world. Although it seems Ratchet thinks otherwise.

"Elita-1?" I ask in curiosity.

Hoist grins. "Of course, who else would I be referring to?" He asks as if I should know who that is. He jerks his helm toward the ship and I turn to look.

A slim femme sashays down the ramp, a stunning smile set into her smooth ivory faceplates. Her armour is a bright pearly pink that instantly makes me want to purge.

"Optimus!" She says with a wide smile as she catches his optics. She runs the last few yards and practically throws herself into his arms. I snort derisively, and Hoist gives me a questioning look

Optimus for his part, looks entirely stunned to see Elita-1. I sidle over to Sunny and Sideswipe.

"Who is she?" I whisper to Sideswipe. He startles a bit, not realising I am there. He looks to Sunstreaker who nods, then looks at me almost guiltily.

"Elita is... well, she is...was... Optimus' mate..." Sideswipe says quietly in answer to my question.

I look at Elita, and then at Optimus. He's holding her at arms length, while she is practically trying to rape him in public. I can hear her stupid girly laugh, and her high-pitched voice. Though I am in such a jealous rage that I cannot hear the words she speaks.

"She looks like she's trying to molest him." I growl. "It's obvious whatever they had in the past is gone... He's clearly not interested."

The silence that follows my words is deafening. Elita-1 and Optimus are now both looking at me. My faceplates heat up, but I retain an emotionless mask.

The picture-perfect Elita glances from my faceplates to my shoulder, where I have yet to rid my armour of the outline of my old decepticon symbol. A mocking smile slithers onto her faceplates.

"Optimus, sparklove." Elita-1 says in a sickly sweet tone. "I didn't know that the Autobot army was taking in strays. You really must introduce me to your little pet!" She smirks at me condescendingly.

Optimus shuffles uncomfortably. It seems he's not quite sure what to say. Which is fine by me, because I do.

"And I didn't know that the Autobot army was conscripting pleasure bots these days." I spit right back at her.

Her smile practically falls off her faceplates.

"You little _glitch_! Do you know who I am?" She growls at me. She arms a small blade in her left servo, and I grin in amusement. The tiny thing looks like a cheese knife.

"No clue." I say with a casual shrug. "I dont make a habit of associating with bots of your..._profession_."

She shrieks and takes a step forward, brandishing her toy blade. I remain motionless, Im pretty sure I could take her in a fight. She seems to know more about looking pretty than she does about how to hold that silly little blade of hers. But before she can move much farther, Optimus restrains her with a servo to the shoulder.

"Enough." He rumbles. "Elita-1. Please accompany the rest of your team to mission control where Prowl will brief you on the rules of this base. Silverbolt, don't you have duties to attend to in the medbay? Everybot else, get your morning energon ration if you haven't already, and get back to work. Dismissed." I salute Optimus sarcastically, and stalk off to the medbay.

* * *

The next few days prove very irritating for me. Hoist has been briefed on my situation and plans for my repairs are progressing apace. However, the instant animosity between Elita and myself has made things tense around base.

It seems she has a reputation with all the other bots, so no one is willing to take my side against her, whereas the infamous Elita has found a steadfast ally in Jolt.

The two of them never pass up a chance to make my life a living pit. Optimus now has his hands full trying to avoid myself, and now Elita as well. And it seems that all bots on base save for Elita herself now know that Optimus is my sparkmate. No one is willing to tell her and shatter her fantasy.

And as much as I would love for that to happen, I've decided to wait it out. The longer she goes thinking that she still has a chance with Op, the more miserable she'll be when she learns the truth.

Meanwhile, with four new bots on base, energon is becoming a serious problem. Ratchet lends me out to Wheeljack, and he sets aside his ground-bridge project (after we clean up its remains of course) to focus on a way of producing energon. At this rate, we only have enough energon to last everybot two months on strict rations.

I hope Optimus has a contingency plan because we really are fragged.

* * *

Optimus opens his optics in the morning to the unfamilar ceiling of the medbay. Silverbot had insisted he spend the night there after the incident yesterday. The prime stands, and flexes his frame. His backstruts are out of alignment. All the berths here are too small for him.

He looks down at his chassis. the metal is warped and remains open in some places, but he is no longer leaking energon, and his self repair systems have kicked in, the nanites working furiously to repair the rest of the damage.

He moves to the energon dispenser on the far wall, and fills himself a cube of med-grade. Despite the fact that he _feels_ fine, he knows he's still not right. He downs the cube and fills another, and downs that too. The rough taste of nanite and CNA filled energon burning his lines all the way down to his tank.

Ratchet enters the medbay at that moment. "Ah good, you're up. The ship will be arriving in five minutes. Do you need anything?"

"No. Thank you old friend." The Prime answers the old medic distractedly.

Ratchet merely nods and leaves through the door he came. Optimus returns to his seat with a third cube of energon. Standard-grade this time. His thoughts shift to Silverbolt as he thinks about his damaged frame.

When he had been hurt, she had sent Prowl into his mind to awaken him. An odd choice, seeing as her presence would have woken him instantly whereas there was only so much Prowl could do. Prowl had explained her logic; that she was the only functioning medic at the time, and Optimus supposed that made sense. But he knew that really she just hadn't wanted to touch his mind.

And that hurt the Prime. Not that it was her fault though. It was entirely his own doing. Staying away from her to protect her. To keep him from devoting his attention to any one bot. To help him focus on their goal; the eradication of all decepticons from earth. It was hurting them both mentally, and it was killing her.

Ratchet had sat the Prime down weeks ago and told him that if he and Silverbolt didn't bond within the next two earth years, she would die. Unbonded sparkmates wasted away trying to connect with their other half, and Silverbolt was no exception. Though Optimus, it seemed, was. The matrix of leadership inside his chassis would keep the effects of the unfulfilled bond from affecting him, and he would live the rest of his days knowing that he had killed Silver.

Two earth years was not much time in the eyes of a cybertronian. And Optimus worried that they would not be able to hunt down all the Decepticons before then.

He felt a burst of excitement from Silverbolt just then, at the same moment that he heard the sound of a spaceships engine. He hoists himself from his seat, and exits the medbay.

The small vessel deposits itself on the ground with a thud and a shake of the ground. The Prime moves to stand by his lieutenants, but his intended place is taken by none other than Silverbolt herself. He stands beside her instead, and watches casually as she struggle to rmain calm. He tries not to laugh, but finds himself smiling in spite of himself.

He turns his attention to this ship as the ramp lowers, and Leadfoot descends. The new medic Hoist is the next to present himself, and first Ratchet, then Optimus himself greets the old mech and welcomes him to earth.

In a pleasant surprise, it seems Smokescreen is aboard this transport, and greetings are thrown about as the young mech sees all his old friends. Then a young femme who was, if Optimus recalls correctly, Sunstreakers partner. Optimus is not sure what the mech did to make Metallooper so angry, even after all these years, but his almost timid nature in the silver femmes presence is most amusing. And it seems Silverbolt finds it so as well.

Optimus observes as Silverbolt watches her friend for a few moments, before passing him to go speak with Ratchet and Hoist.

He turns, and begins conversing with Prowl, and they wonder who the last bot is. Prowl expresses his desire to see Perceptor, while Jazz pitches in saying he wants to know what happened to old Kup. Optimus smiles at his friends, their answers so very telling.

"Prime." Prowls voice grabs his attention. "Look."

Optimus looks in the direction of the ship, and sees a familiar pair of peds moving down the ramp.

"Optimus!" Elita-1 exclaims with a smile, and hurries her last few steps to throw her arms around him.

The Prime just stands there for a moment, looking at the femme who was once his mate. And he feels nothing. She holds no place in his spark, and he isn't sure what to make of that. He holds her out at arms length, and if to look at her better, but really he's just uncomfortable with how close she is.

She begins to coo at him. "Optimus love, what in pit happened to you?" She purrs. "Your armour is all dented. Did you get hurt?" Optimus has to resist the urge to roll his Optics. He had forgotten how simple Elita-1 could act at times.

"There was an accident in Wheeljacks lab yesterday." He answers simply.

Elita laughs out loud, and speaks to him like one might speak to a sparkling. "Optimus, you have to be more careful. You're always getting hurt like this!" Optimus feels himself struggling greatly not to push her away and gripe at her for her attitude. He's better behaved than that.

Though he doesn't ever remember Elita being this childish and vapid. He knows she has never been open to change, and speculates that it must have been himself who has changed. While Elita was certainly lovely to look at, he couldn't recall what it was about her that he had liked.

"Indeed." He finally answers her. "I do always seem to be getting hurt. An unfortunate side effect of war I suppose." Elita doesn't get the sarcasm in his comment, and instead beams up at him and grabs his forarm to pull herself closer. He finds himself leaning back, although she doesnt seem to notice. He can vaugely hear Silverbolt asking about Elita, and he can feel her growing irritation turn into burning jealousy.

"She looks like she's trying to molest him." He hears her say. "It's obvious whatever they had in the past is gone... He's clearly not interested."

Elita turns to look at Silverbolt and Optimus does as well. Things escalate quickly from there although Optimus finds Silverbolts insults to be quite amusing.

* * *

The next days after the arrival of the new bots are harrowing for the Prime, to say the least. Elita follows him around base, trying to get him alone, and he struggles to avoid her, while dodging the glares of Silverbolt.

He knows he ought to tell Elita the truth. That he has found his sparkmate. He knows thats was Silverbolts veiled glares are for, and he knows it's only a matter of time before she finds out on her own, but he still feels a sense of responsibility to her. He left her on Cybertron, waiting for him. He flew off in his bloody quest to find the allspark, and he left her behind. She whom he had once loved.

He loved her stiil. He supposed. But he was no longer _in love_ with her. And that was all the difference. He looked at her and saw a sister, a dear friend. But she saw what she had seen all those years ago. She saw her mate.

He cares for all of his soldiers, and she was one of them. He hated to hurt her. Their bond ran deep since the day Alpha Trion had taken Orion Pax and Ariel and turned them in to Optimus Prime and Elita-1. And she had only grown to love him more and more over the years. Optimus knew what it would do to her, and he was loath to destroy that.

He was already destroying Silverbolt after all. He simply had a choice to make now.

**Sooo, in case people didnt really get it:**

**Mate = Significant Other**

**Bonded = Married**

**Sparkmate = Soulmate**

**So there **_**is**_** a difference between mates and bondmates. But mates is a general term referring to whomever you are with at the time. So bonded couples are referring to their partner, while mates are referring to a girlfriend/boyfriend type situation.**

**Optimus and Silverbolt are **_**not**_** mates. They are sparkmates, but because they are not in a relationship, they are not mates. Also, **

**Interface Partner = friends with benefits **

**Pleasure Bot = Prostitute **

**so basically, Silver called Elita a prostitute. **


End file.
